


Reconstruction

by bumblebeesknees



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s02e18 Awake Arise Or Be Forever Fallen, Fix-It, Getting Back Together, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, relationships are complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:45:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 80,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebeesknees/pseuds/bumblebeesknees
Summary: It takes months for Valentine to find the Mirror, and longer still to defeat him. Afterward, Alec has another first that he shares with Magnus: the strange and tentative transition from beingnot togethertoback together.He’s not handling it as well as he’d like.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello and happy holidays!
> 
> to preface this: i've written a lot of season 2/post-season 2 fic in the last few months which everyone has been hugely supportive of and i appreciate it tremendously. but for whatever reason, i've never been fully satisfied with any of those stories. i now realize it's because _this_ story is the one i've been trying to tell. For myself if nothing else, though it's my hope that all of you like it as well.
> 
> thank you as always to [partnerincrime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partnerincrime/pseuds/partnerincrime) and [beatperfume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume/pseuds/beatperfume) for their endless support, beta services, and chronic ability to convince me to stick it out with this story at a time when i was deeply disenchanted by the show and my own ability to create content <3
> 
> enjoy reading!!

**MAY**

The second-first time they go on a date is as different from the first-first time as it can be: they’re in broad daylight at Prospect Park, not a drop of alcohol in sight. The last time they were here it had been at the tail end of summer. Magnus had been using his magic to carelessly lob popcorn at the ducks milling by the pond. His head had been resting on Alec’s lap while Alec tried to get through the last five chapters of _Grit_ – ironically a goal he never managed to accomplish because he’d gotten distracted by Magnus pulling him in for one slow, lazy kiss after another until Alec had abandoned the book altogether.

It’s the end of spring now and it seems strange to realize that the two of them haven’t kissed for almost two seasons. Alec doesn’t know if Magnus had a plan when he came to the Institute to pick Alec up, but there’s a fair or a carnival of some sort happening when the two of them arrive. Vaulted tents and colourful rides take up the expanse of the baseball field and Alec is relieved to see the crowds of people present, the sheer number of distractions around them.

Magnus nudges Alec’s shoulders with his own and points at the lineup of mounted targets set up at the corner. 

“Archery competition,” he says thoughtfully. With an elegant twist of his wrist, a flyer appears in Magnus’ hands. “Sponsored by the City of New York, blah blah... and the winner gets two hundred and fifty dollars!”

“Magnus,” says Alec. “You’re wearing at least five times that much.”

“Fine,” says Magnus, sighing theatrically. “You’ve caught me. What we’d _really_ be playing for is bragging rights.”

“Of course.”

“Scared, Alexander?” 

“You wish,” says Alec, starting to smile. “Do you even know how to notch an arrow?” And for a moment, an hour, the rest of the afternoon – it’s like being back to that day in the summer, kissing under the tree and feeding popcorn to the ducks. Alec gets distracted by the beam of sunlight reflecting off the cuff of Magnus’ ear as they crowd around the carnival booth, and the chasm of incomprehensible longing that’s become a permanent specter between them is replaced by something sweeter, fuller. 

Alec wins the competition, uses the two hundred and fifty dollars to buy more tickets for carnival games. He collects more prizes across multiple booths and gives them to Magnus, who takes the initiative to pass them off to the nearest kids gathered around them.

He keeps a giant yellow giraffe for himself though. 

“His name’s AJ, for Alec Junior,” he explains carelessly as they start to make their way out in the evening. Alec starts to laugh while he has water in his mouth and it takes him a good minute of painful coughing before he recovers, Magnus running a sympathetic hand across his back.

“Please don’t tell this to Izzy,” says Alec, having skipped over the step of begging Magnus to reconsider the name because he knows his efforts will be futile. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Why? You have a lot in common with the giraffe, Alexander, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“What do I _possibly_ have in common with a giraffe?”

Magnus counts off the points on his list with his fingers: “You’re tall, gentle, have an… interesting way of chewing your food.” 

“No I don’t,” says Alec, frowning. “Do I? I always thought Jace was the one without any table manners.”

“I can only vouch for you, I’m afraid,” says Magnus, but the mischief eases away from his face even as he says it. “Giraffes are also the land mammals with the biggest hearts,” he adds quietly. 

He’s not looking at Alec. From the corner of his eyes, Alec can see that Magnus’ arm tightens around the giraffe and it doesn’t make sense but upon Magnus saying those words and Alec hearing them – something shifts between the two of them. 

Or perhaps something just shifts inside Alec, leaving him misaligned. 

He doesn’t know how to respond, and so he doesn’t. Magnus doesn’t seem to mind his silence. They continue walking, but now that Alec is aware of the change – he can’t make himself _un_ aware of it. The way the ease between them has changed into something tense without warning. That when Magnus reaches for Alec’s hand to interlock their fingers, Alec’s senses become keen, alert. The rush of glowing, disbelieving happiness that comes from hearing Magnus tease him and then say, “Ah! There’s that smile,” is paired with an odd ache, something that makes him shy away from the joy of it. 

A renewed gratefulness of having Magnus back in his life, maybe, fresh with the reminder of how it felt to lose him.

Without the dull roar of the crowds and the bustling activity of the fair, everything suddenly feels stilted, unfamiliar. Magnus, blanketed by the deep red rays of the setting sun, looks like a vision – a spirit from some other time and place, where things between them are effortless and comfortable. Someone who isn’t beside Alec right now, exuding warmth and looking at Alec as though it’s Alec who is otherworldly.

When Magnus opens the door to the loft, Alec hesitates. At Magnus’ inquiring look, Alec says, “I should head back.”

“Already?” says Magnus, disappointed. “Maybe you can come in just for a few minutes. I can dig out that old photo album, so you can see how–”

 _That sounds great,_ thinks Alec, but the words don’t come out. Instead he says, “Maybe next time. I had a really good time today – so. Thank you, for taking me out.”

Magnus slowly lets go of the door handle. There’s a slight pause before he says, “Of course, Alexander. And next time sounds like a plan.”

He sounds warm, considerate but there’s something minute in Magnus that changes. Alec can’t think of a word other than _dims_. It makes Alec want to explain, even though the thought of doing so makes his palms feel hot, closes up his throat and makes the hair at the back of his neck rise up. 

_Get yourself together, Lightwood,_ thinks Alec. He can’t screw this up before it has a chance to even start again. Before _they_ have a chance to start again. 

Alec might not know what he’s doing, might even be _less_ prepared for the challenges ahead of them than he was after their first-first date – but there is one thing Alec knows for certain. He’s going to do this. He’s going to take this chance Magnus has given him and he’s going to do it right.

And so Alec does what he always does when he’s on the verge of something terrifying, on the precipice of a freefall: he squares his shoulders, lifts his gaze, and looks into the eyes of the man he loves more than life. 

“I just think that we should maybe take it – slower, this time,” says Alec. “Not rush into things.”

Not like last time, when Alec had thrown himself headfirst into it and didn’t understand the terms and conditions attached to their relationship. This time, he’ll be better. This time, he’ll remember all the things he should have paid attention to before. 

Last time, Magnus had said: I worry that if we rush into this – that I may lose you. Last time, Magnus had said: You’re not the only who feels vulnerable. Last time, Alec remembers thinking: _What is he even talking about,_ unable to imagine how that could be a fear felt by the most stunning, most radiant person he’s ever met. 

Still, he had tried to assuage those reservations, to show Magnus he wasn’t going anywhere. Alec had been too confident. Alec hadn’t listened. Maybe if he had, they’d be in a different place right now. 

“Okay,” says Magnus. He sounds like he means it, but that’s nothing new. Magnus always means what he says to Alec. “That makes sense.”

Alec nods, relieved and – simultaneously, inexplicably – disappointed. He gives Magnus a weary smile, squeezes his hands, and just as he turns to leave – Magnus’ gaze flickers to Alec’s mouth. 

Alec feels his breath hitch in his chest. 

Take it slow, he thinks, even as he licks his suddenly dry lips, unconscious and instinctive. Alec hasn’t kissed anyone since–

Very, very slowly, Magnus reaches for Alec with one hand, wraps his long fingers around Alec’s wrist. Alec freezes, heart hammering in his chest – but when Magnus leans in, he does so slowly, carefully, giving all the time for Alec to move away. 

Alec stays right where he is.

He presses a brief, careful kiss on to Alec’s mouth. Their second-first kiss. It’s so gentle that Alec has to close his eyes, shut off as many senses as possible so all his focus can be directed toward the softness of Magnus’ lips instead. There’s a weight taking form in his chest, something painful and tender and hopeful.

Magnus sighs contentedly as he pulls away. “Goodnight, Alexander.”

Usually when the ground blows up underneath him, as it has been doing more and more often these days, Alec is good at landing on his feet. Being able to touch Magnus again though – it’s like he hasn’t landed yet at all. As Alec walks back to the Institute, he can still feel a phantom caress of Magnus’ lips on his own. 

For weeks, they don’t go beyond a kiss goodbye at the door. That’s okay. It’s a work in progress, Alec thinks. Just like everything else. 

-  
-

 

**JUNE**

They exhaust every possible place they can go around the city shockingly fast. Even with their respective schedules, Alec has noticed Magnus getting restless much before that. 

At the tail end of one packed date night – consisting of a special exhibition of 17th century weapons at the Met, dinner at Le Bernardin, an off-Broadway musical, and then back in Brooklyn to stroll down the Coney Island boardwalk – Magnus reaches his limit.

“There’s still so many places in the world for you to _see_ , Alexander,” he says as the two of them walk along the platform of wooden planks. Alec’s hands are warm in his pockets and Magnus seemingly doesn’t think twice as he loops his arms around one of Alec’s own, his fingers interlocking at Alec’s elbow. “What about Shanghai? Buenos Aires? Cairo? Venice?” 

“You know I’m fine wherever,” says Alec. He’s never even thought about traveling until Magnus, not having the time nor the appreciation for it. It’s always been about spending time with Magnus. “You realize we never actually got those burgers yet? And Jace and I actually found this great place by NYU after a hunt back in the fall–”

“Okay, we’ll do that,” promises Magnus. “After at least _one_ outing away from this city. Maybe we can go back to Tokyo? We can make it in time for–”

Alec can’t stop himself from tensing. Magnus must feel it because he abruptly cuts himself off and says, “Alexander?”

There’s no way Alec is going back to Tokyo.

Trying to abate his impending panic – because if he’s not ready to even go to the city, there’s no way he can talk about the reasons why – he abruptly asks, “Do you like hiking?”

“Hiking?”

“It’s one of the things I actually _did_ do when I was younger,” explains Alec, glad that Magnus isn’t immediately opposed to the idea. The more he thinks about it, the more Alec relaxes: hiking is perfect for taking it slow. There’s little chance for it to turn into something overnight, which is what would’ve inevitably happened if the two of them started spiriting around the world at a moment’s notice. 

Looking surprised and intrigued, Magnus says, “Do tell.”

“Everyone framed it as stamina training, but it was definitely just for fun. We started off in Idris, but Mom and Dad would take us to places all over. Usually we’d go to an overlook that gave us this – this incredible view of a lake or at least twenty, thirty miles of forest, but one time we climbed to the top of a small mountain and broke the cloud cover.”

It’s been more than a decade but Alec still remembers it clearly – his mother being worried that it was going to start raining, Izzy grumbling about losing her extra hair-tie, Jace finding a fallen branch and using it as a makeshift cane and also a tool to annoy Alec with. They’d all thought it was just the fog making it dreary. 

And then they were at the end of their long journey up, and all Alec could see as he looked out was an endless, endless expanse of white. Beams of light fell unhindered on to the clouds’ surface. It was so quiet and still and peaceful that Alec could hear nothing but his own breathing, the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Heaven, he had thought. This must be where the angels left the earth to be.

Magnus is looking at him. His gaze is very, very warm. Alec feels like he’s back at the mountain, drenched in the golden light of the sun. “I didn’t know that story,” murmurs Magnus.

“It wasn’t like anything else,” says Alec, aware that Magnus is patiently waiting for him to finish. “I think you’d like it.”

“Well, regardless of whether I do or not – the fact that _you’re_ clearly enamoured with the idea means I’m one hundred percent on board,” says Magnus, and Alec shouldn’t be surprised by this – and maybe he’s not – but the unexpected affection that blossoms inside him is welcome. “I suppose exploring nature isn’t something we’ve done together.”

“So wait,” says Alec. “All these years, and you’ve never gone hiking?”

“What can I say, Alexander? I’m a city boy.”

That is true. “You think you can handle it then, Mr. Why-Walk-When-I-Can-Portal?” 

“If I couldn’t before, then I certainly will now,” says Magnus, poking Alec’s chest. “Just to prove you wrong.”

“Okay, okay,” laughs Alec. “I’ll research some places for next weekend and text them to you tomorrow.” A warm breeze sweeps by just then, carrying with it the strong, familiar scent of sand and ocean. Alec forgets how much he loves this city, sometimes, but with Magnus beside him – it’s so obvious to see everything beautiful about New York. “Maybe we should start calling it a night for today, though. C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your place.”

“My place,” repeats Magnus. When Alec raises his eyebrows in question, Magnus just sighs and says, “Lead the way, darling.”

-

 

Alec decides on Banff. The time zone’s close enough that it won’t throw off their schedule, and while Alec has been there before, there are so many different trails that they’ve got plenty to choose from. 

It isn’t until a few days later that Alec gets the chance to talk to Jace about being on duty while Alec is away on the coming Saturday.

“Yeah, of course,” says Jace easily. He barely even needs to look at Alec as he agrees, busy with mapping out the training coordinates for the upcoming group of shadowhunters coming in in September. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m probably not going to have proper cell reception,” says Alec. “So if there’s some kind of emergency–”

“Who d’you think you’re talking to, man?” asks Jace. “It’s fine. Between me and Izzy and Clary, we’ll have things covered here.”

“Uh, okay,” says Alec, not reassured in the least. Maybe he’ll call his mother. “Anyway, if there’s an emergency–” he ignores Jace looking heavenward in exasperation, “and I feel you panicking through the bond, then I’ll ask Magnus to portal us back.”

Jace finally looks up from the detailed map of the five boroughs to give Alec an unconvinced look.

“That doesn’t sound like a well thought out plan,” he says. “What if you sense me panicking because I broke Clary’s fancy paintbrushes or something?”

That... makes a shocking amount of sense. “You’re right.”

“Happens on occasion,” grins Jace. “Where exactly is Magnus taking you that your phone won’t work?”

“Banff,” says Alec. “And I might still get coverage there, but just in case. Mountains are a fucking nightmare with signal.”

“Wait,” says Jace, sounding confused. “You guys are going camping?”

“Hiking,” corrects Alec. “You remember how we used to go with Mom and Dad and Izzy?”

“Yeah, but... really?” Jace looks skeptical. “Magnus? Enjoying the great outdoors?”

“Magnus is a complicated person, Jace. He can enjoy going on a hike.” The expression on Jace’s face doesn’t change. Alec doesn’t blame him, exactly, even as he says, “He said he wanted to try,” out of loyalty to Magnus.

Jace doesn’t seem impressed. “You’d think that in four hundred years the guy would’ve learned not to do stupid things to try and get laid.”

“He’s not trying to get laid, Jace,” says Alec, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t actually think that.” Alec just stares at him with the flattest expression he can muster. The unwanted awareness of each other’s sex lives is something that the two of them have always carefully avoided acknowledging to the point that Alec had forgotten that Jace would, of course, know the tempered pace at which Alec and Magnus are rekindling their relationship.

Looking extremely exasperated, Jace says, “Jeez, fine. Least you can do is admit that he’s doing this to impress you.”

“What’s there to impress? He knows I don’t care about that stuff. I would’ve been perfectly happy doing something else.”

“Uh, were _you_ the one suggesting that you do this?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Alec,” says Jace, and Alec lets himself begrudgingly admit that Jace’s ability to convey complete disbelief is unparalleled. “C’mon, you’re not stupid.”

“Yeah,” agrees Alec, and Jace punches his forearm, presumably for being a dick. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that since you guys got back together or whatever, Magnus has been jumping on every chance he gets to–”

“No he hasn’t,” says Alec, not needing to hear the end of Jace’s sentence to know that he doesn’t want to continue this absurd conversation. Why would Magnus possibly think that Alec needs to be _impressed?_

He doesn’t know how to describe the look on Jace’s face as he gently starts, “Alec.”

Jace is – Jace is a kind person. Alec knows this with the certainty that can only come from knowing someone’s soul with the kind of intimacy that Alec knows Jace’s. He’s kind, and except for the time with the Mortal Cup where every good part of Alec’s life was colliding with the bad and he seemed to be one wrong decision away from being consumed whole, Alec has been a recipient to his casual, instinctive kindness his whole life. 

What Jace _isn’t_ with Alec is gentle. He’s never had a reason to be – Alec’s never needed to be treated carefully. Until right now, apparently.

“It doesn’t matter,” says Alec, even though it’s suddenly hard to speak. “Anyway, thanks for being on-call. Figure out a way to get in touch if something goes wrong.”

Jace just shakes his head. 

“Okay,” he says, and Alec is grateful that Jace lets it go. “Will do, boss. You just worry about making sure your city boy doesn’t kill you by the end of this.”

Magnus is literally the most capable person Alec has ever met. He’s fought in the trenches of wars that Alec can’t even imagine. There’s no way a couple hours climbing up the side of a mountain will do him in.

He still doesn’t worry when Magnus steps into his office at the Institute in his hiking gear early Saturday morning.

“Wow,” says Alec, blinking widely. “I’ve never seen anyone look this good when they’re about to rough it out in the woods.”

“Would it be fair to say that you’ve never seen anyone look this good, ever?” says Magnus, resting a hand on Alec’s chest and leaning in for a quick kiss.

Alec pretends to think about it, but there really is no response to that except, “You know you’re your only competition.”

Magnus looks pleased. “That’s the right answer. Are you ready?”

Alec nods, shouldering on his backpack and waiting for Magnus to open the portal. 

Magnus eyes the bag warily. “Um, what’s that?”

“Stuff for the day,” says Alec. “The website had a list. Food, water, first-aid kit, battery pack for our phones, a blanket, a hat...”

Magnus looks more and more incredulous and charmed as Alec goes down the list.

“Alexander,” he says exasperatedly. “You don’t need all of that. I have magic.”

“Obviously,” says Alec. “When’s that ever stopped me from doing my own thing?”

“You do know how to make a warlock feel useless,” teases Magnus. “What’s the point of having all this power at my fingertips if I can’t even use it to spoil my boyfriend?”

“We can talk about that the day you tell me you’ll ‘meet me there’ for a date when ‘there’ is in Canada,” replies Alec dryly. Magnus laughs and his eyes crinkle at the corners. “All right,” says Alec, “let’s get started before the sun gets too high.”

“It’s nine in the morning here and Alberta’s two hours behind us,” grumbles Magnus, even as he takes Alec’s hand and steps through the portal. “I don’t do this for just anyone, I hope you realize.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Alec didn’t want to deal with having to explain to the rangers how exactly he and Magnus ended up at the entrance of the park without a vehicle in sight, so the portal leads out to an out-of-the way thicket of trees inside the park grounds. It’s a packed space and the result is that Alec trips and falls into Magnus as the portal closes behind them. They both go stumbling into the uneven ground, and Magnus lets out an, ‘oof’ when Alec lands on top of him and knocks the breath out of his body.

Wheezing, Magnus says, “Not a promising start, Alexander.”

“It’ll be nice,” defends Alec, flushing as he gets to his feet. Magnus looks highly skeptical as he takes Alec’s hand and lifts himself up. “Trust me.”

The trail that Alec picks out is one of the more difficult ones, takes them up Mount Fairview and onto an overlook of Lake Louise. They chat easily at the start:

“You’re going to get tired if you keep using your magic for every little thing,” says Alec, fond and concerned when Magnus casts yet another spell, this time one that seems to make his sweat disappear within seconds of it forming. “It’s normal to sweat when you’re exerting yourself. Especially outside under the sun.”

“Yes, well, not everyone looks as delicious as you after a workout,” says Magnus dismissively. “Even when you’re wearing that hideous hat.”

And: 

“Alexander,” says Magnus. “I can’t help but notice that it’s been an hour and we haven’t yet passed a restroom.”

“We’re in the middle of a forest, Magnus,” says Alec slowly. “There _are_ no bathrooms. We’ve always just gone off the trail whenever–”

“I’m sorry,” interrupts Magnus, looking horrified. “Are you telling me you want me to step off this path, which I’m only now learning is the only place we can be sure is – as clean as this place can be – and go behind a tree?”

“I’m not saying I want you to do anything, but it’s a three hour hike each way. There’s a proper way to deal with it.” Realizing that Magnus might not actually know the protocol that Alec’s mom drilled into him at age eight, he says, “Do you want me to walk you through it?”

Somehow, impossibly, Magnus looks even more dubious and appalled.

“Um, no thank you,” he says. “I’d like to preserve the romance in this relationship for a little bit longer. I’m... just going to pop on back to Brooklyn if the need arises then. I’m not prepared to renew my acquaintance with a world without indoor plumbing.”

Alec starts to laugh. This man is too much, he thinks, a helpless affection overtaking him. “This was clearly not a good idea.”

It’s a good day though, the breeze cool enough to counter the effects of the rising sun. Magnus plucks some violet wildflowers for Alec from the side of the trail, tucks it into the pocket of Alec’s t-shirt. Alec himself gets charmed and distracted by the presence of a lone mountain goat that stumbles onto their path who seems to have zero self-preservation instincts because it starts butting its head against Magnus’ knee. 

By mid-morning however the air gets hotter, and the incline of their climb gets steeper. Magnus becomes quieter, and Alec has never felt the need to fill up blessed silence with unwanted chatter, so they both just concentrate on the journey.

“Almost there,” promises Alec as they reach the two and a half hour mark. “We’re going to go off the trail from here – the overlook will probably have a lot of people and I found this spot on the map that’s more secluded.”

“That sounds like the start of my murder,” mutters Magnus even as he follows Alec ducks under inconvenient branches. 

“Are we pretending that you couldn’t crush any human alive with just snap of your fingers?”

“Hush,” says Magnus, taking a sip from the water bottle Alec had passed to him earlier. “Let me concentrate on surviving the last leg of this and hope I don’t regret it.”

Five minutes later they push past the last of the trees at the edge of the forest and come to a stop at rocky clearing with perhaps ten feet of space from the edge. Based on the way Magnus gasps, Alec feels fairly confident that he isn’t disappointed.

“What do you think?” asks Alec, dropping his backpack on the ground and taking a seat next to it. Immediately, the burning muscles in his legs start to relax.

He looks out in front of him, takes in the emerald lake – so still and endlessly deep – cradled by mountains in the distance and deep green pines along the edges. The air is crisp, clean, and smells like pine needles and the sturdy earth. It’s strange to believe a place like this actually exists on this world. 

To Alec, it feels disjointed from time and space. Just him and Magnus in this carefully preserved pocket of perfection. Somewhere he would be content to stay forever, if he had the time. If the planet could just spin to a gentle stop. If he could live with himself, abandoning a world that he loves that he can help – even if it’s in some small way.

Magnus collapses beside Alec, leaning into his side. 

“Oh,” says Alec, remembering. “I’ve got a blanket in that bag, if you want to sit–”

“Alexander,” cuts in Magnus. “This is incredible.” His voice quiet as though not to disturb the air around them. He’s looking at Alec when Alec turns toward him. Their eyes meet, and Magnus slowly reaches to touch his cheek. The tips of his fingers are hot against Alec’s skin. “You’re incredible. Thank you, for bringing me here.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Alec looks away. He digs into his bag, pulls out a bottle of water for Magnus and an apple for himself and changes the subject.

“Too bad the sun’s not properly out,” says Alec, only a little disappointed. There’s no way for the sight in front of him to be anything less than stunningly beautiful, but at this time in the day – if the light hit the water just so – then it would go beyond beautiful and arrive all the way into the territory of magical. “Though it did make the hike out way better than it would be otherwise.”

“Hmm,” says Magnus. “I can fix that.”

“Fix what?” 

Magnus finishes the rest of his water and passes the empty bottle to Alec. He gets to his feet again, and Alec watches in bafflement as Magnus takes a deep, steadying breath and starts to draw magic to his hands. 

Worried, Alec asks, “What are you doing?”

“Bringing out the sun for you,” is Magnus’ response and before Alec has the time to process where to even start with that, the wind picks up in huge, powerful gusts. Above them, the clouds start to disperse and it wasn’t like the day wasn’t cheery before but now – right in front of Alec’s eyes the whole world transforms, beams of warm sunshine spilling into the water and saturating the trees and sky with light.

“There,” says Magnus, and Alec can hear the smile in his voice. “That really _is_ much better.”

“Magnus,” says Alec. He feels overwhelmed, off-kilter, as though his center of gravity has shifted. He is suddenly reminded of what Jace had said earlier in the week, about Magnus trying to impress him. Alec’s eyes sting, and it’s only partially from the sudden harshness of the sun. “You – you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” says Magnus easily. He says this as though it’s nothing. As though thinking about Alec’s happiness is second nature to him.

But Magnus has always been like this, hasn’t he? When they had been together before, Magnus had always been romancing him. Opening up a doorway in the loft that led to Venice so they could kiss in the gondolas at sunset. Soothing away the ache in Alec’s fingers from archery practice, pressing his lips sweetly on to Alec’s knuckles. Spending hours and hours indulging Alec between the decadent sheets of his bed. Magnus has always been good to him. 

Until he wasn’t, because he didn’t have any reason to be.

Unaware of Alec’s thoughts, Magnus continues, “Though I may have inadvertently caused some ripple effects in global weather patterns, but that’s someone else’s problem to worry about tomorrow.”

For some time, Alec can’t speak. He just stares out into the water and tries not to think. Magnus sits back down and pats his knee, tugs Alec’s bag towards them and starts to pull out the food Alec had packed. 

Finally he says, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Though it will be maybe another hour before I can safely open a portal again,” says Magnus, apologetic. “So we’re stuck here until then. Or we can attempt to trek back down together, but I’m voting in favour of the first option of waiting for my magic to resettle.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” says Alec, and the smile on Magnus’ face is just as striking as the ancient lake and the mountains that house it. This is why they’re trying to do this again, Alec thinks. To draw that happiness from Magnus, Alec would do anything. “Though,” he continues, a little tendril of mischief blooming inside him, “there’s the bathroom situation to consider.”

Magnus’ shocked laugh is a mix of exasperation, horror, and reluctant delight. 

“Okay, you’re not allowed to talk anymore,” he says and kisses Alec, possibly just to make sure Alec doesn’t bring up any more impolite conversation topics. Alec has no complaints. 

-

 

They do get out the blanket, eventually. There’s a certain indolence tugging at Alec’s bones after the hike up and when Magnus picks up on it, he pulls Alec down until Alec is resting his head on Magnus’ lap. He lets his eyes drift shut, basks under the warmth of the sun and the feeling of Magnus’ fingers scratching gently at his scalp, listens to Magnus talk about the three years he spent in a little village in the Himalayas back in the sixties. 

There’s a long missing tranquility inside of Alec. He feels like he’s back above the clouds again, back to living a dream. It lulls him into a doze, and stays with him when he becomes alert again. Magnus fishes out the cherries Alec had packed from the Institute’s kitchen, presses them one by one against Alec’s lips and holds still as Alec steals them from him, leaving a kiss at his fingertips in payment.

“You can tell me the truth,” says Alec after, grinning. “You hated it. I have no idea how you kept your complaining to the level that you did.”

“I’m always up for trying something new,” says Magnus, offended. “And even though I wasn’t sure about this whole activity, you sounded very excited about it. There _is_ something very rewarding about the work, I suppose. And – it isn’t too tacky to say that it seems magical, is it?”

“Not at all,” says Alec, heart jumping in his chest. “I thought the same.”

“Great minds.”

“Thanks, for coming with me. Even though it isn’t something you’d normally do.”

“You’re very welcome. And the next time you want to do this and want an ill-suited warlock for company, you always have me as an option.” Magnus pauses for a moment before continuing, more carefully, “Though I do have a question for you.”

Alec tilts his head toward him, wondering why Magnus is prefacing said question instead of just asking. “Sure.”

“Why didn’t you want to go to Tokyo?”

Alec freezes. All the languorous wonder curling inside him vanishes, to be replaced with cold reality.

It’s instinctive to say, _what do you mean?,_ but Magnus isn’t an idiot and Alec doesn’t hedge around the truth like that. Relatedly, he doesn’t have any intention of gaining the reputation of a liar with Magnus – so he stays quiet as he thinks. _I don’t want to talk about it,_ is the honest answer he wants to give, but it seems almost confrontational. He can already imagine the hurt on Magnus’ face.

When Alec doesn’t say anything for half a minute, the silence must grow oppressive for Magnus because there’s a nervousness to him when he continues, “I know it seems – out of the blue, but it’s been on my mind since last week.”

He’s not looking at Alec. “I thought we had a lot of fun the last time we were there?”

Alec has to clear his throat before he can respond. 

“We did,” he says, and hates how he sounds so awkward and abrupt. 

Magnus doesn’t sound any better when he asks, with painful hesitation, “Then why don’t you want to go back?”

 _It’s complicated,_ Alec wants to say, but it’s not, not at all – and in a way it’s the simplicity of the answer that makes it difficult to voice. 

How does he tell Magnus that the reason he can’t go back to Tokyo is because he’s effectively managed to destroy all the wonder and tenderness from the memory? How does he tell Magnus that during their time apart, Alec had spent so long going over each every detail of that weekend as a means to remind himself of what he had lost and that each happy recollection is now edged with the rawness of grief? 

Alec had put away the pictures from that trip when it hit him one day that he didn’t recognize himself in those photos anymore. Didn’t recognize Magnus. It had seemed strange to think that Alec had ever smiled so freely, that Magnus had ever looked at him so warmly.

What’s there to be gained from saying this now, when Magnus is back in his life? Nothing. All that would happen is that they would continue in this cycle of hurting each other, and that’s the last thing Alec wants.

So instead Alec says, “Tokyo was like a dream,” which is true.

“For me, too.” A small smile touches Magnus’ face. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” says Alec, and Magnus’ smile fades. “It feels like someone else’s life. A lot – a lot happened since then, Magnus. I just want to – I don’t know. Move forward, I guess.” All of this is true.

Looking pensive, Magnus says in a thoughtful tone, “You never did like looking back.”

Again, a truth but not a whole one. It’s true that Alec has always plowed forward – it didn’t make sense to look back when the past was unchangeable, set in stone. Unless it was to learn from it, to make sure that history doesn’t repeat.

Needless to say, Alec has spent countless hours going over everything that happened trying to pinpoint all the things he could’ve done differently. That he’s _going_ to do differently.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”

“It’s... not what I wanted to hear, no,” sighs Magnus. He looks almost wistful. “But that’s my problem to deal with. I can’t honestly say I wasn’t expecting something like this.”

Frowning, Alec asks, “What d’you mean?”

Magnus doesn’t look at him. He turns to face the water again, hands resting on his lap. All of Alec longs to take a hold of them and yet something deeper than his conscious desires stop him from doing so.

“I’ve noticed, you know,” says Magnus at last. “Tokyo wasn’t the first time that you froze up. Maybe it was the most obvious, but – you don’t really like to bring up things we used to do before.”

There’s a buzzing in Alec’s ears. He skin feels hot, stretched taut over muscle and bone. It’s as though he’s under the harsh rays of the midday sun and it’s slowly, relentlessly, burning through him, shedding unforgiving light over something he’d thought was kept safe, a safely guarded secret from the world. 

Except Magnus cracked him open, had Alec figured out. He doesn’t seem to realize that Alec has gone still, because he continues to say, “I feel like you’re trying to do things differently. You’re so... so careful with me.”

Magnus says this gently but his words still prickle at something raw inside Alec. 

“Yeah,” he says. He tries very hard to not sound like he’s defending himself because – there’s nothing to defend, he’s not doing anything wrong. Alec is trying to do things _right_. It’s before that he’d done everything wrong. “Yeah, I’m trying to be careful. I’m trying to make sure that I don’t mess anything up this time.”

“Alexander,” starts Magnus, “that’s not on you.”

Alec tries to school his face from giving away the sheer incredulity of that statement. He’s pretty sure things wouldn’t have gone down the way it did if Alec hadn’t – well. If he hadn’t done a lot of things.

When Alec doesn’t respond, Magnus starts to frown and says, “I mean it. I’m not trying to accuse you of anything.”

It’s true, he isn’t. Alec doesn’t know why he’s reacting this way. He needs to get a hold of himself. 

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. Go on.”

“No,” says Magnus, and the frustration is clear in his voice. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m just saying that – I don’t even know what I’m saying. We’re just having a conversation.”

Alec doesn’t want to have this conversation. This was supposed to be a good memory the two of them could create together, something to untouched by the ugliness of the past year. But Alec has never shied away from things just because it could hurt him, and especially not if it was something that someone he cared about needed from him.

And so he draws his knees to his chest and says, “Okay. Then let’s talk.” 

Somehow, this seems to have Magnus in a loss for words.

“I don’t really have anything in particular I want to say,” he says at last. “Only that I hope one day, even if it’s years from now, you’ll want to go back there with me again. During those months, when we were–” 

Alec glances at Magnus when Magnus cuts himself off, the prominent jut of his Adam’s apple moving underneath the soft golden skin of his neck as he swallows. 

Magnus doesn’t finish his previous sentence. He clears his throat and says, “Our weekend in Tokyo was one of the things that helped me through that time. Something good that I could always look to when everything else was falling apart.”

There’s too much in that to unpack, too many conflicting reactions igniting inside Alec. There’s a strange a delirious happiness at the thought that Magnus can casually reference the future, as though certain of Alec’s place in it. Then there is doubt: it’s not like they hadn’t talked about the future before, tangled up in Magnus’ crimson sheets as they thought about visiting Shanghai for the lunar New Year and going to the Alps in the winter. They hadn’t done either; at least Alec hadn’t, and he would rather not know if Magnus had gone by himself or with someone else.

And then there’s this – this yawning chasm of frustrated confusion, overwhelming and overtaking everything else. It’s the reason Alec made a conscious choice not to dwell in whatever they had before, not to tear open those wounds when they had barely begun to heal because – it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense at all. Because it sounds like Magnus drew some strength and comfort from the memory of their relationship and Alec doesn’t understand how that can possibly be true in the same world where Magnus didn’t want to talk to him in those months, could barely even stand to look at him each and every time Alec had tried to reconcile.

Maybe he should've asked about it before. Maybe he could ask it now. _I don’t understand,_ Alec could say but the words get lost somewhere in the space between one heartbeat and the next, in the space between him and Magnus. 

Maybe Alec doesn’t need to understand, he thinks. What will talking about it accomplish except bring up that time that exhausts Alec to think about? What’s the point, when it won’t change the fact that Magnus is with him here and now, that whatever it was that Magnus had been thinking before – why does it matter if he’s decided that he wants Alec after all?

“Alexander?” Magnus asks.

Why does it matter if at the end of the day, nothing will change the fact that Alec loves him?

Suddenly tired in a way that has nothing to do with their journey up here, Alec says, “I’m glad that that was something good you could hold on to.”

Magnus can’t quite stop the hurt from taking over his expression at the answer, even though Alec can see he tries to rein it in, tuck it away under that considerate, unflappable mask. He puts a voice to everything Alec hasn’t said: “But it wasn’t the same for you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” says Alec. There’s nothing he can respond with that won’t disappoint Magnus and Alec just wants one day when he doesn’t do that. “Tokyo – Tokyo reminded me of what I didn’t have anymore. It wasn’t doing me any good to think back at it.” 

Magnus looks stricken, as though it hadn’t occurred to him that their time apart had been different for him than it had been for Alec. That it hadn’t been a mutual decision to separate.

“Oh,” says Magnus. “I – okay.”

“Being with you is what’s important,” says Alec, and hopes that the weight of this truth and all the promise it holds is enough to balance out whatever damage he’s done to their fragile sapling romance by saying what he just did. “Whether it’s at the terrace of the Palace Hotel or here on this mountain. And – and if this makes a difference, I do want to go back with you.”

“Don’t,” says Magnus. “I know what you’re trying to say and – and it means more to me than I can express but – I understand now, and you don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to,” repeats Alec. “One day. But it’ll be about doing something new with you and not – not looking back. Going forward. Is that okay?” 

“Of course,” says Magnus, voice rough. “Of course that’s okay.” 

“Okay,” says Alec, and even though it hadn’t mattered last time, even though it may not be enough this time, Alec says, “I’m trying my best, Magnus,” because Magnus deserves to know that he’s worth nothing less than Alec’s best effort and always has been, even if the truth is that Magnus deserves better than Alec’s best and always has.

“I know,” says Magnus quietly. “I know, my love. But you don’t – I only need you, Alexander. You don’t have to try so hard, not for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Alec. “This isn’t anything different. I’ve always tried to–”

“I know, I know,” says Magnus again, and he looks frustrated, something raw affecting the edges of his voice. “I’m not saying this right. What I’m saying is that the way we were together before wasn’t – it wasn’t wrong. From my experience, there’s never a right pace or a wrong pace to be progressing. It’s just whatever works for the relationship.”

Alec doesn’t know if he agrees with that. He may have only had one relationship and knows a single data point isn’t enough to extrapolate a broader conclusion, there must be an exception in this case. When all the variables are the same except that Alec now understands this relationship a little bit more. 

Frowning, Alec asks, “Is this not working for you?”

“Of course it is,” assures Magnus, and he reaches to take Alec’s hand. Magnus’ rings are usually cool against Alec’s skin but today they’re hot, the energy from the sun infused inside it. “But I think it would be remiss of me to not clarify with you right now if whether we’re – taking it slow, as you put it – because that’s what feels right to you, or because you think you didn’t do something right.” 

“I thought you said it made sense to go about it this way,” says Alec. “That it wasn’t just me.”

“It does make sense. I’m just – I’m just trying to see why it makes sense to you.” 

That’s fair. 

“It’s both, I guess,” says Alec, referring to the two options Magnus had given him. “Obviously – obviously something went wrong, and we know what it was.” When Magnus looks like he’s getting geared up to argue, Alec adds, “And yeah, it feels – it feels right to me to do this. Like maybe if it’s slower there will be more time to stop it. To fix things.”

More time for Alec to catch himself, prevent himself from doing anything that would have Magnus leave again.

Magnus doesn’t look happy, but he says, “As long as it feels right to you.”

“It has to feel right for you too.”

“Oh, Alexander,” says Magnus, right before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on Alec’s lips. “Any amount of time I’m with you feels right to me.”

It’s not a response to what Alec wants to know, but it’ll do. He doesn’t know what to say next, but it turns out that he doesn’t have to. Magnus kisses him again, holds Alec face carefully in his hands and the tenderness in his touch means more than what can be conveyed in a hundred, a thousand words. 

_I love you,_ thinks Alec as he closes his eyes, willing his focus just to the feel of Magnus’ mouth pressing softly against his own and the tender, furtive touch of Magnus’ fingers at his waist. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

This isn’t taking it slow. For everything Alec just said – this is the exact opposite of taking it slow but maybe it’s all right as long as Alec doesn’t say it. Maybe that’s enough to stop them from careening down the same path as before because apparently even after everything, Alec is still a slave to his heart, helpless against its pull toward Magnus. No matter how careful Alec is with his words and his actions, there are some things that Alec just can’t slow down, no matter how much he tries – his love for Magnus is present in every part of him, has been present in every version of Alec to exist since that night in the loft when he stepped away from the door and turned toward Magnus instead. 

It’s never gone away. It’s a part of the before that he can’t separate from himself. Alec doesn’t think he ever can.

-  
-

 

**JULY**

Alec receives a missive from Aline, who is in Alicante, right before the Cabinet meeting. 

“Son of a bitch,” he murmurs, grateful for the ‘other items’ he always has tacked on as the last point on their agenda.

It takes all of Alec’s concentration to take detailed notes during the session. They really need to get an official secretary appointed – it would make the empty seat for the seelie representative less awkward to look at, the way it’s been since they’d all drawn back to their realm in foreboding silence for the last few weeks. Despite his best efforts, it must be obvious that Alec has something on his mind for the entirety of the session if the concerned look Magnus throws him when he doesn’t smile at Raphael’s jab about the rhinestones lining Magnus’ jacket is any indication.

At the end of the meeting, it’s Luke who finally says, “Okay, Alec – clearly you have something you want to talk to the rest of us about.” 

Realizing they’ve addressed everything else on the agenda – from the sabotaged blood supply received by Raphael’s clan from Brookdale to regulating the requisition process for warlocks to obtain werewolf fangs to use in their spells and potion making – Alec says, “All right. Thank you everyone for another productive forum.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lightwood, for facilitating,” says Magnus, and Alec feels his face grow hot when Raphael rolls his eyes and mutters, “Can’t believe we missed this.”

“Yes, well,” says Alec, trying to ignore his burning ears. “As a final item for today, I’d like to share some news that’ll be made public tonight through an address from Alicante. You all know I was in Idris back in April to propose the reformation Luke and I drafted on the rules surrounding downworlder participation in shadowhunter ceremonies.” 

Alec looks at Luke as he speaks, and Luke correctly interprets the slowly growing smile on Alec’s face.

“Are you kidding me?” says Luke. He looks winded, taken aback, collapsing back against his chair. “That thing actually made it through?”

“Just over an hour ago,” confirms Alec. “As of then, there are no longer any legal impositions preventing downworlders from participating in bereavement, union, ceremonial, or ‘any other cultural rituals or gatherings’ involving a loved one who is a nephilim.”

“You went with that amendment in the final draft?” asks Raphael, looking pleased. “Good. It’s important to be as broad as possible with these. I’m very happy for you, Luke. You too, Lightwood, for not completely bungling up the delivery.”

“Wouldn’t have happened without all of you and your input,” says Alec, shaking his hand. “And for completely destroying my speaking points so I was ready for whatever the Council threw at me.”

Raphael graciously responds, “We all have our talents.”

Luke still looks shocked. “I – I need to go find Clary. Is she around, Alec? Are we done with this?”

Alec nods, and Luke claps him on the shoulder as he leaves. It’s a small victory, in the grand scheme of things, but it is _something_ , setting a precedent and erasing just one more line dividing shadowhunters from the downworlders they’re sworn to protect. Not just from demons, but also themselves.

Previously, Magnus had mentioned the need to have downworlder representatives have permanent seats in the Council. It’s an open item from last week’s minutes, something shelved to deal with the more immediate concerns in New York City as opposed to the pervading, systematic injustice in the Accords. Alec will need to reconvene with Aline and debrief the proceedings, but based on the results of the votes Alec now knows for certain that there are people in Idris who can be reasoned with.

Although there’s a world of difference between giving real, political power and what just happened. Still, Alec is going to take these small wins where he can. If Clary ever wants to get married in a nephilim ceremony, there are no legal bindings preventing Luke from giving her away.

It’s not until Raphael sees himself out as well that Alec realizes Magnus has been quiet throughout the brief celebration. Alec reaches toward Magnus’ hand, the one he has resting on the table, and taps at one of his knuckles. 

“Hey,” he says, and Magnus startles, gaze snapping to Alec’s. “You okay?”

Magnus smiles at him. “Of course.”

“It sounds like there’s a ‘not’ missing at the end of that,” says Alec wryly, and is relieved to see the smile on Magnus’ face grow a bit deeper, more real. “What’s going on?”

“Just thinking back to when you were telling us about going to Idris in April,” says Magnus. “I hadn’t realized that Raphael helped you put together the case.”

“More like tore the case apart at least seven times until it was ironclad,” says Alec. He can almost laugh about it now, despite having been defensive about it at the time. “It was pretty embarrassing.”

“Oh?” asks Magnus, intrigued. “Do tell.”

“They made it into a drinking game,” confesses Alec. “Every time Raphael would say, ‘Try again, Lightwood,’ Luke would have to take a shot. He didn’t know how to feel when Raphael only had to say it once the night before I went to Idris.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” says Magnus, and all at once Alec remembers – that Magnus hadn’t been there, and the reasons why.

Clearing his throat, Alec says, “Well, you’ll definitely have more opportunities going forward. I know that this – I know you don’t think that this’ll matter to the majority of downworlders, that there are bigger things we should be doing that’ll have more impact, but I really–” 

“Alexander,” interrupts Magnus. There’s a strange, almost sad look on his face. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Yes, I do,” says Alec, frowning. “I don’t want you to feel like your voice isn’t being heard here. What you said about needing seats in the Council, I’m behind you. We’ll probably just need a bit more time to figure out how to go about it.”

Magnus is shaking his head. “No, my darling, that’s not what I meant. It – well, it doesn’t matter. Regardless of what I had said about this proposal before, I really am happy about this win. Ecstatic, really, not just for Luke. I’m glad you went through with it, even without my support.”

“Yeah?” A reluctant smile pulls at Alec’s mouth.

 _“Yes,”_ says Magnus, and when he reaches for Alec’s hand to slot their fingers together, Alec is already leaning in to kiss his soft, tempting lips. 

Magnus sighs a quiet, contented sigh. “Yes,” he repeats, and his ringed thumb caresses the apple of Alec’s cheek. “If anything ever happened and shadowhunters tried to prevent me from coming to you – they wouldn’t have been able to stop me, Alexander.”

Alec closes his eyes, leans into the warmth of Magnus’ touch. There’s a moment following Magnus’ words that neither of them speak. He places his own hand on top of Magnus’, thinks about that day when he had woken up in the infirmary and found Magnus staring blankly at the sterile wall, slowly picking away at the dark coating of his nails. “I should’ve been there with you,” Magnus had said distantly, and none of Alec’s candid disagreements changed the look on his face. “I shouldn’t have had to threaten my way in here. You shouldn’t even _be_ in here.”

In a more lighthearted voice Magnus says, “Well, it’s good that now I don’t have to worry about how to break out of jail as a consequence the next time I find myself beside your sickbed.”

Alec gracefully accepts the opening.

“That’s too bad,” he says, pressing a kiss to the heel of Magnus’ palm as Magnus moves away. “I always wanted to date a guy in prison. Thought it would get me some real fear and respect around here.”

Magnus starts to laugh. “Somehow I have a hard time seeing you romancing a criminal, Alexander.”

“Why not?” asks Alec, frowning as though in confusion. “Aren’t I romancing one right now?”

“I see how it is,” says Magnus. “You break the Accords _one_ time–”

“You mean one... hundred? One thousand? I can never tell what numbers mean with you.”

“Oh, hush,” says Magnus, and his smile is still the best thing Alec has ever seen. “Why don’t you invite me back to your office and I can tell you all about all the exploits I’ve been accused of despite any conclusive evidence? You can tally them up for your records.”

There’s no universe in which Alec says no to that.

When they reach Alec’s office, however, it’s to find Izzy curled up on the sofa with a weathered looking book. She looks up when she hears him enter, face breaking out into a grin.

“Oh, hey,” he says, surprised. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, big brother,” says Izzy as she slips under his arm to give him a hug. “Raphael caught me up on the good news on the way out.”

“Oh.” Alec can’t help but smile again. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good news. It’s small but it’s something. A first step.” 

It’s only then that Izzy seems to see Magnus standing behind him.

Everything about her changes. She pulls away from Alec, spine stiff and all traces of warmth vanished. Izzy looks at Magnus the way she used to look at their mother, and Alec is abruptly reminded that it isn’t just his relationship with Magnus that has changed over the past few months. 

“Magnus,” says Izzy coolly. “Are you planning on hanging around?”

“Isabelle.” Magnus’ voice is pleasant but his eyes are frozen over with a kind of viciousness that startles Alec. He’s only ever seen that hateful look in Magnus when he’s recounting particular atrocities done by Valentine during the uprising. Alec looks between the two of them, wary and uncertain. “Just having a celebratory drink with Alexander.”

“What’s there to celebrate for you?” asks Izzy. The derision in her words is unmistakable. “I thought this was a waste of time and resources and proof that the Cabinet was nothing but a showboat?”

“Enough,” cuts in Alec sharply, but neither of them seem to hear him – or both of them choose to ignore him if they do.

“Unfortunate that my lapse in judgment is forever preserved in those meeting records,” says Magnus, and to Alec he sounds far too comfortable admitting that for it to not be a setup for something more. “Rosa sends her regards from her new home, by the way. I’d tell you where it is, so you can return her greeting yourself – except I’m sure you understand why I won’t.”

Alec frowns. He may not understand what’s going on but he recognizes this particular, unforgiving fury in Magnus, something he hasn’t seen in months; he recognizes the expression on Izzy’s face, how she looks when she’s been struck somewhere deep and is stopping herself from backing down only through the sheer force of her pride. 

Cautiously, Alec asks, “What are you two talking about?”

Izzy doesn’t look away from Magnus, her gaze narrowed. 

“Nothing, Alec,” she says at last. “I guess I’d forgotten that Magnus and I have a lot of experience in choosing the wrong person to side with.”

Magnus’ mouth curls venomously as he opens up a portal with a careless wave of his arm.

“Even I’ve never sunk that low,” he says, and Alec’s temper flares, unable to hold back when he hears someone talk to Izzy this way. He’s moving in front of her without even realizing it, putting himself between the two of them.

“What the hell? Magnus, you don’t get to–” _talk to my baby sister that way–_ but Magnus turns away from them and toward the portal, cutting Alec off. 

“I don’t think I’ll be staying after all, Alexander,” he says, and when Izzy mutters, “Good riddance,” Alec snaps, “That’s enough from you,” before turning to Magnus.

“I think the three of us need to talk about whatever this is,” he says carefully.

“I have nothing more to say to Isabelle,” is Magnus’ cold response. “If you want to talk, you’re welcome to come with me.”

The look on Magnus’ face is almost confrontational. Alec gapes, feeling like he’s been struck. On the other side of that portal is Magnus’ loft; Alec has been gently but steadfastly declining all careful invitations from Magnus to visit and right now Alec feels wrongfooted, put on the spot. Like the ground’s shifted underneath him. He thought Magnus had understood that Alec couldn’t– 

It’s suddenly hard to think. The longer Alec is silent, the more upset Magnus looks. He’s definitely asking for something different, something more than just continuing the conversation elsewhere. Trying to gather his focus, Alec speaks around the tightness in his throat. 

“I don’t think you should go until we talk about this,” he repeats. “Izzy'll give us space if you want.”

It’s not the answer Magnus wanted to hear. He looks disappointed in Alec, and Alec knows exactly why. He feels helpless, frustrated because he can’t – he can’t go with Magnus right now. Maybe he could go somewhere else, but not through that portal.

Magnus turns around, shoulders rigid with tension. “No, that’s not what I want,” he says at last. “I’ll see you later, Alexander.” 

He disappears into the portal and a moment later, it vanishes.

-

 

Alec stares at the spot the portal was, his mind strangely blank. Less than fifteen minutes ago Magnus had been telling him that there is nothing in this world that would be able to keep Magnus away from Alec. Now Magnus is gone, having asked Alec to make a choice he wasn’t prepared for and unhappy with the answer Alec had given.

It’s like an endless circle of bad decisions between the two of them. Alec doesn’t know what to do and so he does nothing. He doesn’t move until he feels Izzy gently touch his arm. 

“Alec,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice reminds him that there is more happening here than just the endless obstacles with Magnus.

Still, Alec has to take a second to collect himself. 

“Izzy,” he starts, turning to face her. “What the hell was that? Why was Magnus acting like – why was he being that way with you?”

“You don’t have to get in the middle of that,” says Izzy, looking tense. Sad. Alec hates seeing her like this, even more than he hates seeing the disappointment on Magnus’ face. 

“If my sister and my – if you and Magnus have this kind of bad blood between you, I think I _want_ to get in the middle of that,” says Alec. “Besides, I feel like after what just went down, I’m already involved. What’s the deal?”

“You mean other than how it makes me want to kick his ass seeing him waltzing around in here like he didn’t leave you hanging for–”

“Izzy, stop. I know what you’re trying to do.” Make him uncomfortable so he doesn’t push. Which might have even been effective, if this really was about Magnus and Alec’s relationship and not something that involved Izzy. “It’s not going to work.”

Alec has already been distracted once with his personal drama during a time when Izzy needed him, and that was one time too many. He’s not going to let her down again.

“What’s really going on, Iz?”

Izzy looks away from him. “I can’t tell you.”

“Are you in trouble with this Rosa person?” asks Alec, carefully observing Izzy’s face. The way that she crosses her arms, flinches away from the name – it’s guilt. He frowns. “Izzy – I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

“There’s nothing I need help with, Alec,” says Izzy with a sigh. “It’s something I need to fix on my own and I’ve been working on it.”

“We’ve always been open with each other,” he says quietly. And they have, Alec’s self-destructive lock around the truth of his sexuality not-withstanding. And Izzy had still figured it out, anyway, and helped him keep his secret even as she tried to encourage him in her own brazen, single-minded way to let it out. To let himself be happy. “Why don’t you want me in on this?” 

“Because you’ll look at me differently,” says Izzy, voice small. She draws further into herself. “You’ll like me less.”

That’s not the answer he had expected.

“What?” says Alec, truly baffled. Only Jace can match what Izzy is to Alec. There should never be any doubt regarding Alec’s faith in them, built not blindly but in years of getting to know each individual stitch that make them as people. Good people, who compel in Alec unwavering trust and loyalty, where they take care of and forgive each other when they can’t do it for themselves. 

Alec is bound to them by love and friendship, something stronger than blood, something all encompassing. It’s Alec’s job to love them but it’s not a duty so much as it is his privilege, and it’s not a gift so much as it is their right. They’re his family, and even at the worst of it Jace and Izzy have always stuck by him. Even when they disagreed with him, they’ve never abandoned him. They’ve always tried to choose each other and show each other the right way. There’s nothing in his siblings that would ever be too ugly for Alec to stick by.

It’s a force deeper than instinct that has Alec reaching for Izzy, drawing her into his arms for comfort. Alec doesn’t know what to think when she doesn’t hug him back, just rests her head against his shoulder. 

“Izzy, I love you. There’s nothing you can tell me that’ll make me think badly of you.”

Very softly, Izzy says, “This will. I hurt someone, Alec. A friend who trusted me. Someone who Magnus cares about. That’s why he’s so pissed off.”

So it’s Raphael. “Okay.”

“It’s not okay, Alec.”

“Well, I have no idea what happened so I can’t really decide if it’s okay or not,” says Alec, and Izzy’s shoulders shake a little in reluctant laughter. “But – whatever happened, I’m sure you can fix it, Iz.” When Izzy gears up to argue, Alec quickly adds, “I know it’s easy for me to say this when it’s not me who’s affected by whatever it is, but – I know you, and I can’t think of anyone else that’s smarter or more capable.”

“You don’t really know a lot of people, Alec,” says Izzy, but it’s more out of routine than anything else.

“You mean I don’t _like_ a lot of people,” corrects Alec.

“That’s true,” says Izzy, and she finally hugs him back – a precursor to letting go. “Thanks Alec.” 

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You shouldn’t have to. I’ll keep trying, it’s just – it’s hard. When you’ve got something to prove to someone but they’ve let it go. Or they say that they’ve let it go.” Izzy lets out a long, deep breath. “I never even wanted you to find out about this but I guess that went out the door the second Magnus decided to get himself involved.”

Alec hesitates for only a moment before he says, “You know I’m going to talk to him about this.”

Izzy’s shoulders get tense again. “That’s up to you.”

“I don’t want the two of you to hate each other, Iz.”

“I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon,” says Izzy. “I – listen, Alec, I pushed it too far today but until now I’ve been civil to Magnus for your sake. I’m sure he can be civil to me for the same reason. But you’ve got to wrap your head around the fact that even though it’s not the same thing, he’s not going to get over what happened with Rosa and I’m not going to get over what happened with you.”

This isn’t the best resolution that Alec had hoped to arrive at, but he nods and Izzy accepts that in good grace.

-

 

The next morning, he texts to Magnus, _Hey – can we talk?,_ and doesn’t get a response until the afternoon. 

_How about over dinner? Just got back from a job at the DuMort._

Alec agrees, relieved that they’ve got a plan. Magnus can’t be too upset with Alec for not leaving with him yesterday if he’s suggesting they go on a date.

Five minutes after he locks down a time and a place with Magnus, however, Alec receives an unexpected visitor – though perhaps not so unexpected, given the events of the last eighteen hours. Without any warning, a portal opens up in Alec’s office. 

Alec is already standing up with his seraph blade in hand when Raphael steps out – and Alec swears, leaping out of his chair to draw the blackout curtains close. 

When Alec had approved of having the downworld leaders of New York keyed into the wards, this is _not_ how he expected it to be used.

“Good to know that shadowhunter training is useful for something,” says Raphael. “That was some fast footwork there.”

“Good to know you have a death wish, wandering around here in the middle of the day.” Alec’s heart hasn’t yet settled back into his chest. He heads over to the other side of his desk and leans against the edge of it. It would be too disrespectful to sit when Raphael clearly doesn’t seem to have any plans of doing so.

“Do you need something?” asks Alec, cutting to the chase. He and Raphael have what can be generously described as a courteous professional relationship. Not anything that would warrant a vampire popping in to the Institute in the middle of a sunny afternoon.

Raphael walks gracefully to the center of the room, the portal closing behind him.

“In a sense,” he says. “Magnus came to DuMort to strengthen the wards and charged me through the roof because I didn’t stop him from, and I quote, ‘making catastrophic decisions.’” 

“Okay.” Magnus did say he had just finished a job at the hotel. This is starting to sound more and more like a family squabble Alec doesn’t want to go near with a ten-foot pole. “Are you here to file a complaint?”

“I should, shouldn’t I,” muses Raphael, and Alec thinks that he’s almost smiling. “No, money matters aren’t a concern between myself and Magnus. I came to talk to you because as you can imagine, this catastrophic decision he was talking about had something to do with you.”

Alec stills. “All right,” he says slowly.

Raphael doesn’t start speaking right away. Not for dramatics – Alec has learned over the last year that Raphael has even less tolerance for bullshit than Alec does, which Alec hadn’t thought was possible – but because he seems to be carefully considering what he wants to say.

“I’ve known Magnus for almost fifty years,” he says at last. “He’s – he’s been through a lot in just that time alone, and he’s been alive for seven times longer than that. I’m sure you can imagine that a lot of his pain is tied to shadowhunters and the Clave.”

Ah. So it’s going to be this kind of conversation.

“I know,” says Alec. “You didn’t have to come here in the middle of a Wednesday to say this.”

Raphael ignores him.

“But in that time,” he continues, “for all the clashes he’s had with your people – Magnus has never once tried to fight against it with his whole self like this, bringing the fight to the Clave. He never thought there was any real chance of change. Not when his enemy had all the power to hurt the people he cared about, and not when he knew they never wanted things to be different.”

“What are you trying to get at, Raphael?” asks Alec, bristling. “You’ve always been straight with me so – just say it. You want to say that I’m setting him back? That I’m adding to all that pain? That he’d be better off without me? I know all of this already.”

“No, Alec Lightwood,” says Raphael, looking annoyed. “I’m saying the opposite.”

Alec doesn’t even bother to respond to that with anything but a scoff. This is _not_ what he wanted to spend an hour today doing.

“I’ve always given it to you straight,” says Raphael, throwing Alec’s words back at him. “Until you started with this business of unity, Magnus never had hope. All he had was his bitterness, and resignation that the power and corruption of your people was too ingrained into the world and the lives of the downworlders.”

“Are you saying you think that’s different for him now?” Alec can’t quite keep the skepticism out of his voice. “Because of the Cabinet?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” says Raphael. “Luke and I respect what you’re trying to do, and I think that in time it’ll result in some meaningful change. But we’re also not blind to your – limitations. Not just because you’re a shadowhunter, but also because you’re a person.”

It says a lot about Alec’s truly disordered priorities that Raphael’s frank criticism of his character barely stings, but the implication of Magnus’ assessment of him cuts deep. The urge to cross his arms across his chest is strong – a feeble attempt to shield himself from what’s coming – but Alec resists. There are only so many people he can expose his weaknesses to. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at,” says Alec tersely, “but trust me when I say that Magnus isn’t blind to my limitations.”

“He is,” disagrees Raphael. “And he had let himself be wilfully blind to your strengths. Magnus is one of the most intelligent people I’ve met and he’s – he completely loses all perspective when it comes to you. Why else would he have purposefully ignored that you’ve been putting yourself in the line of fire when it wouldn’t benefit you at all? Why do you think he never backed you and Luke in pushing for that reform in the Accords?”

This is something Alec knows the answer to, even if he wishes he didn’t.

“Because at the time, it wouldn’t have made a real difference in his life,” says Alec, and he hates that his voice sounds hoarse. “Or anyone else he knows. There were more important things to be focusing our efforts and resources toward.”

“And does that sound like the Magnus you know?” pushes Raphael. “That even if the first part was true, that he wouldn’t support a decision that would make things easier for other downworlders?”

“But he did.” Why is he continuing this conversation when each word is the equivalent of a seraph blade piercing through his skin? “Even before, with the seelies – he did, because he was thinking about the bigger picture.” 

“He did,” agrees Raphael quietly. “Because he doesn’t think rationally when you’re involved. He doesn’t think with his head or his heart. He just thinks about hurting, and protecting himself from being hurt. Everything suddenly becomes black and white. It’s why he couldn’t accept what happened with the Sword, and it’s why he couldn’t accept that you were on his side. Why else would he have sided with the seelies against the advice of other downworlders, when it meant it would be standing against them too? Friends he’s had for decades, whose judgment he trusts? Why else would he dismiss the reformation?” 

He pauses, and if he was hoping Alec would say something then he’s going to be waiting a long time. Raphael knows Magnus better than almost anyone else walking the Earth right now and Alec doesn’t know what it’s going to do to him to hear from Raphael that Alec is the catalyst for Magnus locking away his compassion.

Finally, Raphael says, “Is any of this getting across to you?”

“Clearly,” says Alec. His head is starting to pound, each beat of his heart corresponding with a resounding ache inside his skull. That Magnus can do better than someone as difficult as Alec, someone who brings out the worst in him – none of this is new information. 

“No, it’s not.” From the way Raphael’s expression and tone both become severe, he’s not pleased by Alec’s response. “I’m saying that Magnus almost started an incident at the DuMort today because he thought I didn’t try hard enough to get him to support the reform or to get over himself after everything with Valentine and the seelies. I’m saying that he’s probably drinking a whole distillery right now because every part of his life is tangled up in you and he knows what’s at stake if you decide he isn’t worth it.”

“If _I_ decide–” Alec has to cut himself off, the absurdity of that statement enough to make him furious. How could he possibly say this when Alec has done nothing but tie his heart up with Magnus’ so Magnus would never have to worry about Alec leaving? He had done so completely, irrevocably, as though there was nothing to risk, because for Alec there _wasn’t_ anything – there was never going to be anyone else for him. 

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” says Alec. His hands are trembling, and he curls them into fists to try and stop it. “And Magnus knows better than to think I’d stop doing what we’re doing with the Cabinet if we – if we break up.” 

Raphael looks at him in disbelief.

“You fool,” he says. “What’s at stake for Magnus is _losing you_ , not the work we’re doing with this Cabinet. You can’t possibly be this ignorant.”

“What?” Alec can’t help but sound disbelieving. This can’t possibly be a real issue. What could Alec have done to make Magnus think this? 

The need to end this conversation outweighs his incredulity, however. Alec quickly adds, “Fine. Is that what you wanted to say?”

“Magnus better buy me a new hotel for putting up with this _tonterias_ ,” mutters Raphael. “Listen, Lightwood, I don’t know what happened between you two last year, and I don’t know what happened between you last night. All I know is that I don’t like it when Magnus is hurting, even if it’s his own fault. Especially when someone can do something to help.”

Alec runs a hand through his hair, thinking. He knows what Raphael is asking him to do and it’s what Alec wants too. Except for the part of Alec that doesn’t want anything to do with it at all.

“Do we understand each other?” asks Raphael. 

“Yes,” says Alec, and for whatever reason, Raphael seems to believe him this time. “Now unless you have any business with me as the head of the Institute, you can show yourself out.”

“Gladly,” says Raphael, rolling his eyes. 

It feels wrong to wait the five hours until dinner to speak with Magnus, especially after the insights Raphael had unintentionally – or intentionally; Alec still doesn’t have a good read of him – shared with Alec. This mystery with Izzy doesn’t seem to be the only thing bothering Magnus, and what’s the point of having the kind of schedule that he does if he can’t use it to be there for his boyfriend? 

Still, it takes Alec a minute of staring down on his phone before he can quickly type: _Actually, can I come by now?_

“Jace,” he says on his way out. Hopefully Magnus will respond by the time Alec makes it to his place. “I’m going to see Magnus about something. I should be back in a couple hours but call me if something happens.”

“We don’t have to have one of these talks every time you leave the building, Alec,” says Jace, waving him off. “Just send me a text.”

It’s a ten minute drive to Magnus’ and a twenty minute run if Alec activates his speed rune. Usually the decision on what to do depends on whether Alec wants to spend the time in his own head or not. And right now – Alec definitely doesn’t want to be in his own head, thinking about how this will be the first time he’s going to enter Magnus’ loft in almost a year. 

Alec knows he’s been unreasonable about this, that Magnus has shown the patience of a saint with Alec’s snail-like pace. Alec wants to do things differently, this time – take it slow, he’d said, in vain effort to temper the extent to which he ties himself up in Magnus – but Alec has always known that keeping himself away from the loft is more than just removing the temptation of falling into bed together and skip all those steps in between again. 

Alec made it to twenty-four without ever having sex. Even after he figured out he would only ever desire men, the only person he’s ever _wanted_ in a way that went beyond abstract appreciation is Magnus. He’s the only person Alec has ever indulged in these thoughts about, indulged his body in, but in the time that he and Magnus have been apart, it’s not the sex that Alec had missed with a bone deep longing. 

What Alec missed – and still misses – is the intimacy, of knowing in his subconscious that he had a place he would always be welcome. To a degree that place is anywhere that Magnus is, but the place Magnus used to be the most with Alec is the loft. Losing the warmth and comfort had been worse than losing the passion and even though it’s irrational, even though Alec wants to be better than this – there’s still this part of Alec that doesn’t want to step in there because he knows he won’t be able to control himself from filling up the hollow places inside with a home that isn’t his own.

But here Alec is, twenty minutes later, standing outside Magnus’ apartment building and staring down at the cryptic, _okay,_ he received from Magnus a minute earlier. He tells himself that his racing heart is just from the exertion of running over. When he steps in to the building’s lobby, Alec thinks he can feel himself passing through the familiar net of Magnus’ wards. The last few months it has always been Magnus picking him up at the Institute and Alec walking Magnus back, kissing him goodbye at the door. He hasn’t been back here without Magnus standing beside him.

It’s fine, Alec thinks as he takes the elevator up and walks down the hall. He’ll go in, talk with Magnus and be back at the Institute to finish work before meeting up again for dinner. Alec operates best within clear definitions, mission objectives, strategies to be executed. Even if he stays longer, he’ll be fine – as long as he keeps perspective and remembers the facts, remembers why he’s here.

Alec knocks.

“Hey,” he calls out. “It’s me. Alec.”

The time it takes for the door to open is excruciating. But it does open, almost tentatively, and Magnus pokes his head out. He looks at Alec in shock and for one horrible second, Alec wonders if he’ll–

But of course Magnus doesn’t close the door. Instead he opens it wider, and he looks so – Alec doesn’t know how to describe it, has never had the command over language to be able to put into words what the sight of Magnus invokes in Alec except that it is vast and all encompassing. He’s got a half-finished martini cradled in one hand as he blinks owlishly at Alec, his eyeliner just shy of perfect and his hair lacking his usual structure. His mouth is parted just so in surprise, soft and inviting. 

“Alexander?”

“Hi,” says Alec, and Magnus looks just as dazed after Alec’s kiss hello as he did before. “Isn’t it too early to be having a drink?”

“Sounds like something only a casual drinker would say,” says Magnus, almost absently. He’s still staring at Alec as though he can’t believe Alec is standing at his door, even though Alec just texted him about it. “What’re you doing here?”

“I just – wanted to see how you were doing,” says Alec, and abruptly feels unsure, clumsy. This is probably weird, he thinks, shoving his hands inside his pockets. Why couldn’t he just have waited a few more hours? Except he already knows the answer – he’d rather it be weird than _not_ go, and then later find out that he should have. He’d have done the same with anybody else in his family. 

“I didn’t like how we left things last night and that’s why I texted this morning, but then Raphael popped into the Institute in the middle of the day like it was no big thing–”

“Wait, what?” says Magnus, suddenly looking sharp. “He did _what?_ ”

“He’s fine,” Alec assures him. “But we talked, and he seemed to think that you weren’t doing too good when he saw you this morning, so.”

Magnus’ gaze grows soft.

“And you came here,” he says. 

Alec shrugs. “Yeah, I – can we move this conversation inside? The longer I see you holding that martini glass at three in the afternoon, the more nervous I get and depending on what we end up talking about I don’t want the neighbours to call the cops.”

He half expects Magnus to question him, ask him why now, what’s changed. Alec knows what the answer is, but he doesn’t know if he can say it – can’t voice all the reasons he’s stayed away without leaving himself cracked open, can’t voice that all those reasons had ceased to matter the second it became an obstacle to providing Magnus with comfort and it makes Alec angry at himself as he thinks about it. Where is his fearlessness? Where is that fire and boldness that Magnus inspires in him?

Except Alec knows the answer to those questions too. It’s present in Alec’s caution, in reining in his instincts, in thinking and over-thinking every step he wants to take with Magnus. Alec knows exactly where his bravery went when it comes to his heart.

But all Magnus says is, “Yes,” his eyes bright and full of marvel. 

“Yeah?” says Alec. It comes out hoarse, his throat oddly dry.

Magnus reaches forward and Alec’s own hand meets him halfway. Magnus wraps his fingers around Alec’s wrist, carefully tugs him inside. “Yes, Alexander,” he says, and it’s almost a sigh. “Please come in.”

-

 

Things have changed in the time Alec hasn't been to Magnus’ loft: there's a new painting mounted on the foyer and there's a different throw across the back of the couch. Alec's eyes flicker over to the kitchen as they walk past it, and he recollects with vivid clarity the night they'd spent trying to make linguine from scratch at the tail end of last summer, despite their combined, mediocre talents in the kitchen. All the appliances have been upgraded, replaced with modern, stainless steel.

But God, everything still screams of Magnus. The warmth of the sunlight spilling into the loft, the shelves full of both magical and mundane books. The empty coat rack for visitors because Magnus always keeps his own coats in the massive closet attached to the bedroom. It's like traveling back in time, like Alec hasn’t spent months away from here. It still smells like sage and cedar wood. Like Magnus. Like home. 

Alec is grateful to be led around because he would have been useless without it. Wouldn't have known where to go, where to sit. Too distracted trying to drink in everything his eyes fall on. 

Magnus, for his part, is fussing around, saying nonsensically, “Sorry the place is a mess – I really wasn’t expecting any company today. Other than Raphael, who pops in from time to time but he really can’t cast any stones at me given his living situation in ‘74–”

“Magnus,” interrupts Alec gently, because Magnus’ loft is as impeccable as always, “everything looks great.”

“Right, right. Why don’t you sit and I’ll – I’ll get you something to drink.”

Alec starts to refuse, say that it’s okay and he can’t stay that long, but Magnus has already vanished into the kitchen. Feeling unmoored, Alec walks over to the balcony and waits for Magnus. The view of the Manhattan skyline isn’t as striking during the day as it is at night, but it’s a familiar and beloved sight to Alec nonetheless. He remembers coming out here the night after Max’s rune ceremony, mostly uncaring about how he almost died out here and wondering what the information they’d learned about the Soul Sword would mean for Magnus and the downworld. 

Even then Alec had known, hadn’t he? That Magnus was it for him, that losing him wasn’t an option. That protecting Magnus had become Alec’s priority, synonymous to his duty to the Clave, to his family.

“Ah, there you are! I should have guessed this is where you’d wander off to.” Alec turns around to see Magnus walk in, a champagne flute in each hand. He passes the one with sparkling water to Alec, saying, “I figured you aren’t done working for the day.”

“Good call,” says Alec. “Isn’t it too early for you too?”

“Perks of being a warlock,” says Magnus, folding his arms and resting them on the railing. His shoulders press up comfortingly against Alec’s. “I’ve got a whole host of ways to sober up if needed. Already used one of them before coming out here.”

“You sobered up for me?” says Alec, gently teasing. “I’m honoured.”

“Seemed like the thing to do,” replies Magnus. He’s smiling, but there’s something a little uncertain about him when he looks at Alec. “I’m glad you came by, Alexander. Even though I’m doing quite all right, as you can see. Raphael was just being his usual overdramatic self.”

“Raphael?” repeats Alec. “Overdramatic?”

“You only know a sliver of the complexities that make Raphael Santiago, Alexander. There’s more to him than well-cut suits and enviously efficient leadership.” 

“I guess you would know better than me,” says Alec. And because Magnus’ wellbeing isn’t something to beat around the bush about, he continues, “And maybe Raphael would know better than I would if something was bothering you, but even I can tell it’s not normal for you to be mixing up martinis at this time. Did you guys have a fight? Are you upset about Izzy?”

Magnus’ expression shuts down, the sweetness in his gaze vanishing. 

“What did Isabelle say?”

“Just that you and her can sort it out on your own, and I should mind my own business. But I did tell her I’d talk to you so if you want to say anything then go for it.”

When Magnus doesn’t take the opening, Alec continues, “You don’t need to tell me what happened either, but I’m not gonna let this go if you guys don’t figure it out. I’ll tell you what I told her: Izzy’s my sister, Magnus, and you’re my–” For a second, Alec stumbles. _Get it together,_ he thinks, gathering his bearings. There’s no reason for him to hesitate – Alec knows exactly what Magnus is to him. “You’re my boyfriend. I don’t want to see either of you hurting, especially not because of each other.”

Sighing, Magnus looks back to the skyline in front of them. 

“I don’t want you to hurt either,” he murmurs. “Not because of us.”

“What?” says Alec. “I’m fine. This is – I don’t want to say that this is normal for me, exactly, but it’s what happens when two people you care about are at ends. When Jace and I were fighting, Izzy helped us figure things out. And when Mom was being stupid about Jace – and when Mom was being unreasonable about _you_. It’s just – it’s just what you do when you want both people there.”

“Alexander, in those examples there was someone who you clearly agreed with more.”

Frustrated, Alec says, “What _happened_ between you two, Magnus? Do you think that I’ll – take Izzy’s ‘side’ or something? Because let me tell you, the way our conversation went – she seemed to think the opposite.”

“I think that Isabelle is your sister,” says Magnus, slowly. “And it’s instinct to want to believe in and protect your own.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Alec, hackles rising. He steps away, carefully places the untouched glass of sparkling water on the sun lounger. What’s Magnus trying to say? “You think that I wouldn’t – what? Look at the situation fairly just because Izzy’s my sister? That I think less of you or something?” 

“It’s not that simple,” says Magnus. “I understand that it’s–”

“It _is_ that simple,” interrupts Alec. Does Magnus think that Alec would support Izzy even if she’s wrong? Why would he think that when Alec has always been in Magnus’ corner when Magnus had found himself taking the ire of Alec’s family? “I’m not talking about motives or intentions. I don’t think you care about things like that. I’m asking you a question that has a yes or no answer because if that’s the reason you think you can’t talk to me about things, then – then I want to know. Because it’s not true.”

Magnus just shakes his head.

“You love your family, Alexander,” he says, and Alec can’t help out the strangled noise of frustration that escapes him. 

“And you think that makes me blind to their faults?” asks Alec because Magnus’ words weren’t an answer at all. “There’s a difference between loving someone and wanting to preserve that relationship, and ignoring when they make mistakes.” 

Alec frowns when Magnus takes a particularly deep gulp of his drink.

“We don’t have to argue about this,” says Magnus. “I’ll – I’ll go speak with Isabelle. You don’t have to worry about it. We’ll sort this out.”

“Okay,” says Alec, but something about this isn’t sitting right with him. What they’re talking about – Alec thinks there’s more to it than just the mystery of Magnus and Izzy’s fallout over this Rosa. Trying to pull together the multiple loose ends of their conversation, Alec slowly says, “Magnus, you don’t come second to me. You have to know that. I’m always going to listen to you and try to understand and if you think I’m not doing that then you have to tell me.” 

Taking a deep breath, he continues, “What happened yesterday, it wasn’t about that. It was – I don’t know, it was–” 

“I know,” Magnus quietly cuts-in, perhaps sensing Alec’s growing distress. “I know, you don’t have to explain yourself, Alexander. I shouldn’t have asked you what I did last night. To come with me. Not when I understand why you didn’t – it was unfair of me.”

 _Does_ Magnus understand, though? Alec thought that Magnus would, that he understood better than most that family isn’t just blood and blood doesn’t automatically equate to family – but does he know that that’s the same for Alec?

“It wasn’t me choosing Izzy,” says Alec again. “My sister’s important to me, but so are you.”

Magnus puts down his glass, places it on the precarious ledge of the balcony railing.

“I know,” he repeats, but he looks so weary that Alec doesn’t believe it. 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” says Magnus, closing his eyes. “I know you’ve defended our relationship to your family. You had always made my place in your life clear to me and clear to the world, even when it wasn’t easy – and I never told you how grateful I was. How much I appreciated it. But I did.”

“You don’t have to thank me for meeting such minimum requirements,” says Alec before moving on to the more important point: “But if that’s true, then why do you–” 

“I don’t know.” Magnus answers before Alec can even finish his question. Even though he isn’t looking at Alec, Alec can’t look away from him. Alec can see that Magnus’ eyes are bright and wet and scattered drops of water are clinging to the gentle curve of his eyelashes. “I don’t know why, Alexander.”

“Magnus,” says Alec, seized with something vast and out of his control. He doesn’t think twice about drawing Magnus into his arms, gripping him tight. 

Magnus presses his face into Alec’s neck. His fingers curl into Alec’s nails pushing up against the ridge of Alec’s shoulderblades. Magnus doesn’t cry, exactly, but his breathing is shallow and the hot puffs of it sends shivers down Alec’s spine. The sound of it fills Alec ears. Alec’s heart is thundering so hard in his chest that he wonders if Magnus can feel it, if Magnus can tell that the bones caging Alec’s heart is Magnus’ for the taking, to fortify the defenses around his own.

Quietly, Alec asks, “Magnus, what’s wrong?”

There is a fleeting pause. Alec knows that the words that are coming are important, tempestuous, and tries to brace himself for them. 

“I always used to know what I was to you,” whispers Magnus, as though it is a secret whispered in the night – existing in the infinitesimally small space between Magnus’ lips and Alec’s ears – instead of a confession in the middle of a summer afternoon. “I don’t know what I am to you, anymore, Alexander.”

All of Alec’s muscles lock up, and the next exhale of his breath comes out as more of a gasp. Alec tries to step back, to look at Magnus’ face, but Magnus doesn’t give an inch. If anything, his hold on Alec grows even tighter, keeps him locked in place.

“What,” starts Alec, not understanding. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t know,” repeats Magnus and he sounds wrecked. He sounds small, beaten down, and there’s a horror that’s slowly taking Alec over. 

Alec tries to move again, but this time it’s with the hope that he’d be able to take a look at Magnus’ face, the endless well of his exquisite eyes. Alec wants to ask him what he means again, ask him what Alec needs to do to fix it. But again, Magnus doesn’t loosen his hold and Alec says, “Magnus–” the response Alec gets is: “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” demands Alec. There’s an ache inside of him that’s slowly expanding outward. “I don’t – Magnus, let me look at you–”

Alec has never had to do this before, call on his physical strength to break away from Magnus. This is unprecedented, and when Alec manages to step back, to grip Magnus’ shoulders and try to see if the answers he’s looking for are hidden in the familiar, beloved features of Magnus’ face – Alec finds nothing there except uncertainty. 

Magnus has never looked at him like this before. Alec feels gutted. Magnus’ words repeats in his head, a terrible, endless curse. _I don’t know what I am to you._ Alec is the reason for this. 

“What do you mean you don’t know what you are to me?”

Magnus shrugs Alec’s hands off of him. He wraps his arms around himself and looks away. “I don’t know why I said that,” he says. “The sobering potion must not have worked properly.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” says Alec. The way Magnus’ expression twists – there’s no more clarity now than there was before. Alec pushes forward. “You’re the only person I’ve ever felt this way about. I want you to be happy. I want to do what I can to make you happy. I care about you and I – I want to take care of you. That’s who you are to me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been doing a good job of showing you.”

“Alexander,” says Magnus, closing his eyes. “I know all of that. You haven’t – you haven’t done anything to make me think otherwise.”

“Then wh–”

“I told you,” says Magnus. “I don’t. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Yes you do,” says Alec. Magnus’ eyes are shot with red and Alec can still feel the remnants of his tears from where he’d pressed his face into the curve of Alec’s neck and shoulder. Does Magnus think Alec’s stupid or cowardly enough to ignore this? 

“Alexander–”

“You know you can say anything to me,” says Alec.

“I can’t,” says Magnus, and he’s shaking his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just – it’s just a feeling in my gut.”

“What’s the feeling?”

For a long while, Magnus just stares at Alec. Alec doesn’t look away. Again, he asks, “What’s your gut telling you, Magnus?”

“I feel as though–” Magnus stops, as though to gather his strength. Again, he starts, “I can’t help but think–” Alec reaches for Magnus again, and a tension he hadn’t realized was gathering in his chest melts away when Magnus grabs his offered hands tight. The grooves of his rings press into Alec’s palms, dig into the joints of his fingers but the pain is almost welcome. Grounding. 

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Magnus says, “I don’t know why but I can’t – I can’t shake this feeling that something’s not right. Sometimes I look at you and I think that – that you’ve got one foot out the door and I – I don’t know why. I don’t know why, Alexander.”

“I don’t,” says Alec, swallowing against his dry throat. He doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t have my foot out the door. How long have you been thinking this? What did I do to–”

“Nothing,” says Magnus, quick to reassure. He looks upset, the grip on Alec’s hands growing tighter. “That’s why I didn’t – I don’t know what’s wrong. You’ve done nothing to make me think this but I just. I can’t make myself stop.”

Alec thinks about it, thinks about all the times Magnus has been careful with him. The times Alec himself has been careful with Magnus in turn. With the benefit of hindsight – the benefit of the perspective Alec has gained in the last few minutes – Alec realizes the stupidity of thinking he had it figured out before. He had thought that there was only one way he could hurt Magnus irreparably and having knowledge of it, he thought he could avoid doing it ever again. 

Instead it turns out that Alec knows nothing. Knows nothing about the infinite ways it’s possible for a person to hurt. Alec has been so determined not to make the same mistakes that here he is, making entirely new ones. He may not know what they are yet, but the aftereffects are staring at him right now. 

Unbidden, the words that Raphael had spoken earlier come back to Alec. The same words that had at spurred Alec to come here, worried about Magnus. Worried _for_ him. You fool, Raphael had said. He’s afraid he’s going to lose you.

Alec doesn’t know why this is happening. Again, Alec has to swallow back the ask that rises in his throat. _Why?_ he wants to demand from Magnus. _What did I do?_ – except Magnus has already answered the question, and Alec doesn’t know what to do with the answer, if he should accept Magnus’ response at face value.

“Alexander,” says Magnus softly. “Please say something.”

Magnus may not know why he’s feeling this way, but it matters to Alec that he is. Given those premises, Alec says the only thing he can, the only thing he’s ever had at his disposal: “Tell me what you need me to do.” _Tell me how to fix this._

Magnus looks startled. He blinks, once, twice, three times in quick succession, looking at Alec as though he doesn’t understand the words Alec has just spoken. “What?”

“Tell me what you need,” repeats Alec. “And I’ll do it.” Magnus said he used to know exactly what he was to Alec, and it’s only recently that this changed. It’s only now that things are different. If Magnus thinks they’re moving too slow, then Alec will go faster. If Alec isn’t saying something enough, doing something enough, if Magnus wants to go back to Tokyo or Prague or–

“Stop,” says Magnus. He squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t need you to do anything. I just need you.”

Alec doesn’t understand what the difference is, but that has no bearing on the answer: “You have me.” 

Magnus doesn’t respond, and through confusion and inexplicable, crushing sorrow closing his throat Alec repeats, “You have me, Magnus. You’ve always had me.”

When Magnus speaks next, he still doesn’t look at Alec. “I know it’s unfair of me to ask you this after what happened last night,” he starts quietly, “but will you stay here for a little bit longer?”

Alec’s heart is breaking again, but that’s a familiar, manageable ache. 

“You can ask me anything,” he says. If Magnus needs him to, Alec will stand on this balcony forever. Longer than that. “Of course I’ll stay. As long as you want me to – I’ll be here.”

-  
-

 

**INTERLUDE – APRIL, PART I**

With Max’s help, they find out about Jonathan in October. Valentine doesn’t discover the truth about the Mirror until January. Clary kills her birth father and asks the angel Raziel to bring Jace back to them in February. While the Lightwoods are in favour in Idris, Luke asks for the Cabinet’s help during March in drafting an all-inclusive amendment to the Accords. Aline works her magic and gets Alec an audience with the Council in April.

With each day, week, month – Alec finds the rift between him and Magnus grows wider, colder, insurmountable. The political landscape keeps changing with every blink but between the two of them, everything is the same. Magnus doesn’t change his mind. Alec tries to give him space but he’s no good at staying away, no good at letting people go. 

_It’s his duty to the downworld,_ Alec reminds himself. _He can’t be a leader if he has to put you first. Maybe he could’ve figured out a way if you showed yourself to be trustworthy but you didn’t. You aren’t. You made the choice for him._

As the hundred moving pieces start to take shape and create the final picture, however, the less he can hold on to that as a crutch. The Seelie Queen strikes a bargain with Valentine in November, but the Clave finds out about it weeks later. Magnus and the warlocks break their alliance with the fair folk, but not before their wards go up around the city, keeping anyone with angel blood locked inside the city. In February there’s a rift that opens between their world and Edom and Magnus helps the shadowhunters in defeating a common enemy that wants destruction for them all. After, the Cabinet starts back up and Alec gets to work in trying to transition this uneasy truce into a true alliance. 

There’s no change to the relationship between Alec and Magnus – Magnus, who is still hostile, still distant, and it’s – it’s personal. Directed.

Maybe part of the reason for their separation was Magnus’ duty to his people, but more and more Alec starts to realize that he’s broken something fundamental between the two of them, something Magnus can’t come back from. It’s – it’s almost too huge to fathom, that this is how things will be like between them. 

But it’s reality. The wards that go up around New York that would kill anyone with angel blood who try to walk through it – that is reality. Alec being nothing more than one more Lightwood to shove a rusted knife into Magnus’ heart – that is reality. _I have decisions to make, and you’re the only thing that’s stopping me from making them_ – that is reality. And after months and months of trying to salvage the best thing that’s happened to him, somewhere in the back of his mind it settles that this is how it is. At the realization, the loss that grips him is so strong that it’s all Alec can do to just – not think those parts of the reality that he is living. 

With Valentine dead and the world in shambles, Alec has things to keep him busy: Jace’s return from the dead, and how Alec’s terrified to look away from him in fear that he’ll be gone again; the discontent from the shadowhunters at the Institute and leadership in Idris over Alec’s personal and professional choices; Luke’s insistence that the message for reform will be accepted better from a nephilim who is the head of an Institute – even if he’s openly leading a life the Clave disapproves of – than a downworlder who only _used_ to be one of their own. 

And then someone slips magical nightshade into Alec’s dinner the night he returns from Alicante. 

He eats at his desk in the office now days, and Jace had come by under the guise of wanting Alec’s opinion on whether they should start a recreational sports team at the Institute. In reality, he’s probably here to distract Alec from brooding over all the ways his pitch to the Council could have been better. Alec appreciates this tremendously.

“It’ll be great,” says Jace enthusiastically. “We can even have a league, if we get other Institutes in on it. You can’t tell me you don’t wanna kick Chicago’s ass in volleyball.”

“So we’ve decided it’s going to be volleyball?” asks Alec. “Not fencing or archery or something shadowhunters actually have experience in?”

“It has to be a _team_ sport, Alec. The whole point is to foster cooperation to achieve a common goal.”

That sounds suspiciously familiar. “Have you been reading my books on effective management techniques?"

“Yes,” says Jace with absolutely no hesitation.

“ _Why_ are you–” Alec cuts himself off when a sharp, unexpected pain erupts in his stomach. He gasps in shock, instinctively crossing his arms around his abdomen, as though it’ll help contain it. “Son of a–”

“Alec?” says Jace, frowning. “Are you okay?”

Alec starts to cough, his lungs burning. In a matter of seconds, his mouth and throat dry up.

Water, he thinks, but when he lifts his glass to his mouth he can’t quite swallow and spills down his front. 

Jace immediately hurries toward him, expression twisting into worry. He swears when Alec looks up at him. Jace’s face is blurry, but even so Alec can see it’s twisted up in pain. Of course – he must be feeling an echo of what Alec is.

“You’re sweating, Alec. I think you’re having – you’re having an allergic reaction or something. Fuck, you hold on one second, I’ll be right back–”

“Jace,” Alec tries to say, and Jace starts shouting out the open door: “Hey, HEY – WE NEED SOME FUCKING HELP IN HERE, SOMEONE GET THE MEDIC–”

It’s like every symptom Alec has ever had when sick or wounded is attacking him at once. His vision is getting worse, too much light flooding into his eyes. His hands shake and his joints suddenly feel brittle, weak. What drives Alec into panic though is that it’s also getting harder and harder to think. Words form in his mind and get lost on the way to his voice. He can’t recognize who exactly comes in to help him, but they along with Jace hoist him up and start dragging carrying to the infirmary.

“Jace,” croaks Alec. “Something – in food. No allergy.”

Being poisoned is painful and tiring in a way that wounds are not. Other than the brief period of time he was with Magnus – during which Alec had entertained the romantic, outlandish idea of figuring out a way to extend his mortal life for as long as he could to keep Magnus company – Alec had always assumed he’d get killed in action. It’s just – anything else isn’t a warrior’s death. 

It _is_ a politician’s though, and the truth of it is that as much as his bow and his blade feel like an extension of his limbs, Alec is realizing more and more that he’s of better use out of the battlefield and in the Accords hall. Alec probably should have paid more attention to the minority of dissatisfied shadowhunters under his command who never respected his leadership.

Izzy gets looped in and identifies the nightshade petals littered in Alec’s salad. They flush the toxins out of his body with the help of technology and the Silent Brothers’ magic, and it’s an experience that Alec never wants to repeat. Everything about his body rebels against the attack, shuddering with it. Later, Izzy will tell him that the properties of the flower had been altered, making the poison more potent, faster reacting.

“You rest, big brother,” Izzy says, squeezing his hand gently. Alec feels empty and hollowed out after the treatment – Jace had confiscated Alec’s stele earlier, when he found Alec trying to activate the stamina rune – and for once it’s a reflection of his physical condition and not a mental exhaustion. 

“Yeah, you just worry about getting back on your feet,” says Jace, and his eyes are hard. He looks pale and his fingers quiver, feeling the remnants of what Alec is. “We can take care of things here for a couple days.”

Alec knows that look, and what ‘take care of things’ means, especially with Izzy’s assistance in the matter. He drifts off into an induced sleep, the healing runes still working on his body, Izzy’s voice growing softer and softer the further he’s pulled into unconsciousness.

-

 

Alec jolts awake some indeterminable amount of time later, under the harsh lights of the infirmary and the rhythmic tweets and whirs of the machinery. He’s parched, and his body feels like it’s recovering from losing a fight with a greater demon. 

Alec’s mind is alert, however, and that’s a blessing. 

It’s probably why he notices Magnus perched at the edge of an armchair at his bedside, watching him intently.

The steady beep of Alec’s heart monitor suddenly jumps. One of Magnus’ hands twitches, as though to reach out. He doesn’t, though – Magnus just clasps them together on his lap, interlocking his fingers. He watches as Alec slowly drags himself to a sitting position, and winces along with Alec when the IV drip on the inside of his elbow shifts.

There’s a bowl of ice on the bedside table, the rune for cold seared as a pattern around the rim. Alec buys himself some time by slowly placing some of the chips in his mouth – feeling immense relief at having them instantly melt and trickle down his throat – but it turns out that he didn’t need to. Magnus still doesn’t look away from Alec, still doesn’t say anything.

Clearing his throat, Alec says in a raspy voice, “Hey.”

“Hey,” responds Magnus softly, and there’s something hard in his gaze even as his voice is gentle. For once, Alec has a feeling that the anger in Magnus’ eyes isn’t directed toward him. “How are you feeling?”

Alec feels like death would be kinder than this hell ravaging his body, except even as the thought occurs to him, he knows that leaving everyone behind isn’t an option. Perhaps inadequately, Alec replies, “Alive.”

“I guess that’s the ultimate bar to measure these outcomes against.”

“Yeah.” Alec looks down at the bowl in his hands, realizes that the runes are drawn in Clary’s familiar sweeps and dashes. “What happened? What’re you doing here? Where’s Jace and Izzy?”

It takes Magnus a moment to answer. Alec takes that time to look at Magnus, commit the sight of him like this to memory. When was the last time Alec had been so close to him? Even in the Cabinet meetings he has always opted to sit across the table from Alec. Refusing to meet Alec’s eyes unless there was an invisible, impenetrable wall standing between them. 

He’s looking at Alec now, though. There’s no veil between them. It’s the first time in a long time Alec’s had a clear view of Magnus’ eyes, the dark, familiar brown that runs endlessly deep. He looks impeccable – with his perfectly styled hair and perfectly curling lashes and perfectly coordinated clothes – unless you knew to look for the signs. In the time they were together, Alec had been a dedicated student in trying to learn everything there was to know about Magnus Bane, and as a result he knows exactly what to look for.

The way his knuckles have gone white with the force of how tightly he’s gripping on to his own hands. The hard lines of his shoulders and perfectly straight back. The pinched corners of his mouth. The way he’s blinking slowly, carefully, as though that is the only thing about the situation he can control right now.

The last few hours must’ve taken a toll on Alec because other than the familiar, aching longing, Alec doesn’t feel anything else. Mostly Alec just feels tired, even though the last thing he wants to do now is sleep.

“You’ve been out for more than a day, Alexander,” says Magnus at last. “Clary just convinced your parabatai to sleep once he felt through your bond that you were feeling better. I may have used a tiny little spell to give him that last push he needed to be properly unconscious.”

Alec nods, the knot in chest easing a bit. “Izzy?”

“With your mother in the Silent City,” says Magnus, “dealing with the person who tried to assassinate you.”

“Oh,” says Alec, taken aback. Assassinate seems too fancy of a term to apply to Alec, but – that really _is_ what it is, isn’t it? “They’ve already tracked them down?”

“I think your mother went a little beyond tracking,” says Magnus. “It was one of your shadowhunters, Randall Goldleaf. He’s not very happy with the direction you’re taking the Institute.” 

Magnus probably means Alec’s crusade in building relationships with the leaders of New York’s downworld, and if so then Alec thinks that’s giving Randall way too much credit. The man has always been vocal about his opinions on Alec – both about Alec’s capacity as the head of the Institute since Alec’s unorthodox promotion and on Alec’s general skills as a shadowhunter since Alec’s uncharacteristically dramatic coming out at the wedding.

Though, Alec is forced to admit, the timing of the incident being right after his return from Alicante is too coincidental to dismiss.

“Well, if it was going to be anyone, I guess it makes sense that it was Randall,” says Alec. “He admitted it? His motives for–” Alec stumbles, having a hard time believing what happened– “for poisoning me?”

“Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, Alexander,” replies Magnus, voice terse. “Given that your mother had already broken all his fingers by the time I put him under a truth spell where lying would result in immediate death.”

Alec stares at him. 

“What?” he asks inanely.

“It was the only way to make sure we knew we caught the culprit one way or another,” explains Magnus, and Alec doesn’t understand how he’s maintaining such a reasonable tone throughout this conversation. The unconscious movements of Magnus’ hands as he speaks is riveting, and Alec finds himself getting distracted by the deep black coating Magnus’ nails. “We found out that he had a partner who has also been apprehended and taken to await trial.”

“By the angel,” mutters Alec. He pinches the bridge of his nose trying to process everything: his mother back from Idris, Magnus at his bedside, Jace and Izzy taking care of Alec’s job because he was careless enough to get poisoned. 

Making up his mind, Alec starts to unhook himself from the various needles and sensors attached to his body. The clothes he remembers wearing are folded in a neat pile, resting on a table against the wall. He pushes the button beside the bed, one that should have the medical personnel come in – if they hadn’t already been alerted already.

“What are you doing?” asks Magnus blankly.

“Getting out of here to figure out what the fuck is going on at my Institute,” says Alec shortly.

“No, you’re not,” says Magnus. “Alexander, you almost died.”

“And I’m fine now,” says Alec. His face grows hot when he realizes he still has to deal with a catheter and Magnus is still staring at him. To think there was a time when this would be nothing when all Alec can think about now is that he’d rather face down a hoard of Edomai than let Magnus see him like this. “Thanks for – whatever it is that you did to help. You should–”

“I didn’t do anything,” is Magnus’ short response. “Your shadowhunters refused to let a downworlder in until I reminded them that I was knocking only as a courtesy and could take down the wards in this place as easily as I put them up.”

“Why were you even–” Alec starts, and then stops himself when Magnus’ gaze grows stormy. “It doesn’t matter. I need to get dressed.”

Magnus doesn’t budge. “If you think I’m going to–”

“If you’re not going to leave, then turn around while I take care of things,” says Alec. He tries to be courteous but it just comes out sounding abrupt. Alec doesn’t know how else to be. He doesn’t know how to be normal around Magnus, not when every word between them will hold all the weight of Alec’s love and regret, neither of which are easy burdens to bear. “I’m leaving this room, Magnus.” 

Magnus must hear the resolution in his voice, the unspoken, _are you really going to try and stop me?_ His face flickers through a series of expressions – distress, anger, sorrow, resignation – before he purses his lips together. 

“Fine,” he says, standing up. “If the alternative is that you try to break out of here anyway and get yourself in an even bigger mess – I’ll wait outside.”

“Magnus,” says Alec, not understanding why Magnus is being like this. “Just – you can go home. I alerted the medics, someone should be by soon. You don’t have to be here.”

“I’ll be outside,” repeats Magnus, and shuts the door behind him before Alec can say anything more.

-

 

True to his word, Magnus waits outside the infirmary doors for Alec. He seems to understand why Alec stubbornly keeps denying any attempts by the medical team to give him food and water and conjures up a sealed bottle of Gatorade for him to drink. He only moves his gaze away from Alec when his mother and Izzy return from the Silent City. He has a hushed conversation with Maryse before disappearing, but Alec’s mostly distracted from that when Izzy gently wraps her arms around him, a look of immense relief on her face.

“Thank the angel you’re all right,” she says, squeezing him tight. “Jace kept having these – episodes. It was horrible to watch. We weren’t sure what that said about you.” 

“I’m fine,” says Alec, kissing the top of her head. “Everything’s fine. Except Randall Goldleaf, I guess?”

Izzy’s expression grows cold. “Yeah, he and his partner in this aren’t going to be seeing the light of day any time soon. The Clave sent an envoy from Idris to pick him up.” 

“This quickly?” asks Alec, surprised. 

“They acted pretty quick once Magnus started to make a fuss,” says Izzy, shrugging. “Guess it’s in their interest to keep one of the ten most powerful warlocks happy so he’ll keep accepting their jobs. Dad’s overseeing Randall’s sentencing.”

“That’s not going to be a fair trial.”

“There’s not going to be a trial,” says Izzy, giving Alec a strange look. “He confessed, there’s hard evidence. It would be the same outcome if there was a trial and if, by some bizarre reason he’d walked – there’s no way Mom wouldn’t have killed him herself.”

Alec tries to process this information and finds that he can’t, each new piece of the story clashing and trying to precedence over what he already knows. Too much had happened in the day he’s been passed out, and he needs to get his head wrapped around it.

“Okay, let’s go to my office and you can give me a full report,” says Alec. “Is Randall working alone or do we have to put together an investigation to weed out a group? Was this attack at me, or me as an extension of the Cabinet? Was he planning anything else with other targets?”

“You’ve just come out of a near-death incident, Alec.” Izzy sounds chastising, but there’s a smile on her face. “You can’t wait another few hours before heading back to work?”

“I’m fine,” Alec repeats. 

It’s true enough. Over the next day Jace figures out that Alec is – not scared, exactly, but cautious about eating anything at the Institute, and takes it upon himself to either force Alec to go out for meals or brings back takeout. He always eats at least a quarter of whatever he gets for Alec first, and just shrugs and says, “Just making sure it’s not poisoned.”

“You don’t have to do that,” says Alec, and hates himself for feeling better about eating after Jace tries it first. 

“If you think I’m not gonna milk this for as long as I can, then you don’t know me at all,” says Jace through another mouthful of Alec’s food and the gratefulness Alec feels toward Jace is staggering in its profundity. 

“Thank you,” says Alec quietly, and Jace just knocks his shoulder against Alec’s in understanding. “I know that it’s stupid–”

“It’s not stupid,” interrupts Jace. “Alec – what happened was seriously fucked up. I’ll eat as many of your burgers as I can get my hands on until you punch me because you’ve had enough.”

Fucked up it might be, but in an unsurprising turn of events the Clave doesn’t sentence Randall Goldleaf to serve time in prison. They’re too shorthanded, says the Clave, and Alec is still alive. No harm, no foul. Randall was able to provide valuable insight into shadowhunters and their changing culture. Namely that after the latest horror with Valentine and the downworld’s instrumental help in sealing up the rifts to Edom, more and more of the people in the institutes were questioning their existing moral system.

There’s a reason nephilim had thrived undisputed for so long, Randall had said. Their leaders hadn’t been perverted by their desires, causing dissent among their ranks. 

Alec’s family is, understandably, more infuriated than Alec himself is. Alec understands this logically, because he knows how he would be if Randall had decided that Jace or Izzy or hell, even Clary, was a better target to be made an example of. Mostly Alec is still having a hard time believing that he was the target of an assassination.

The news gets out quickly enough, and Magnus drops by Alec’s office within hours of Alec himself finding out the details.

“Please tell me you’re fighting this – this gross miscarriage of justice,” says Magnus, striding into the room.

Alec, who had been frowning down at a recent paper by the Iron Sisters on the ratio of _adamas_ to iron in seraph blades, looks up.

“Good morning,” says Alec after a slight pause. Magnus has been popping in over the last couple days to perform maintenance on the wards and check up on Alec. Having his interactions with Magnus thaw a little – almost be _normal_ , for whatever that word means – has been the only silver lining in this mess.

The start of a civil relationship. Maybe even a friendship, if Alec would be so lucky.

Clearing his throat, Alec asks, “Fighting what, exactly?”

“Goldleaf’s verdict,” says Magnus. “I’m only checking because I’d like all the facts before I send a fire message to the Council to tell them I seem to have been the victim of a terrible curse that’s undoing my magic from the last few centuries.” Alec has always been laughably easy for Magnus’ outrageous charm and whatever it is that changes in Alec’s face causes Magnus’ gaze to soften. “You’re looking better and better every day, Alexander.”

“Yeah, I’ve been feeling better. I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t go out in the field that much anymore, anyway.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” says Magnus, and he even smiles a little. His eyes are warm, and he doesn’t look away from Alec. “Does that mean you’ve got the time and energy to go to Alicante and petition to have Goldleaf deruned and imprisoned?”

Sighing, Alec says, “Magnus, it’s okay.”

“That’s fine, it doesn’t have to be you,” assures Magnus. Alec raises his eyebrows, and Magnus explains, “You’re recovering. I’m more than capable of going on your behalf.”

“No – I don’t mean that. Nobody has to do anything.” 

“I think you’ll find that I disagree,” says Magnus. All the warmth in his eyes vanishes, and Alec has to stop himself from reeling back. He hates seeing Magnus like this, even when it’s not directed at Alec. “There’s nothing about this outcome that is acceptable.”

Alec takes a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, Randall didn’t get thrown in jail but – I’m pretty sure my father pulled the right strings and got him re-assigned to the institute in Sucre. Bolivia.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Yeah – in the last ten years, the veil is the thinnest between this world and the demon realm there. The mortality rate in that Institute is almost ninety-percent. That’s where you get sent when the Clave wants you to die a quiet death.”

Magnus quiets at that. 

“Well,” he says at last. “I didn’t think my priorities would ever be aligned with the Lightwood name, but I’m glad for it in this case.”

“Right,” says Alec and the thoughtfulness on Magnus’ expression melts into frustration – though again, it doesn’t seem to be directed at Alec. “So that’s the update. Did you come by the Institute for anything in particular?”

Magnus shakes his head. 

“No,” he says, even though it sounds a lot like he means ‘yes.’ “Just to see how you were doing.”

“All right,” says Alec. And then, “Will you be at the meeting next week?”

Alec doesn’t know why he asks when Magnus hasn’t missed a single meeting since Alec started the Cabinet. Still, it feels like the right thing to do, and Alec’s rewarded with Magnus promising, “Of course I will,” before he takes his leave. 

-

 

Alec sees Magnus twice more before the meeting: both times he’s in the Institute for some routine business, and both times he comes by to see Alec before he leaves. 

Alec waits at the entrance to the main wing of the Institute, just past the foyer, his usual waiting area to welcome the members of the Cabinet. Luke is the first to arrive, as usual, and he greets Alec with a firm handshake. “Good to see you on your feet, Alec. I’m sorry to hear what happened.”

“Good to see you too,” says Alec. “Silver lining is that they didn’t get to me before I went to Alicante to propose the reform.”

“I think the silver lining is that you’re alive and kicking,” says Luke dryly and Alec accepts that with grace. “We’ve still got a few minutes before we get started, right? Is your mother still around?”

“Yeah, she should be,” says Alec, waving him down the hall. He doesn’t know exactly what’s happening there, but he respects Luke and loves his mother so he hopes it works out for the best. 

Magnus is standing at the doorway when Alec turns back around, looking at Alec’s direction. He seems distracted, but his gaze brightens when he meets Alec’s eyes and he walks over without delay. 

“Already getting back into the swing of things, I see,” he says to Alec in greeting.

“Yeah,” says Alec. “Did you forget you scolded me about it the second I woke up in the infirmary?”

“It’s not scolding when it’s rationally laying out facts.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bane.”

In the last few months, Alec has been the subject of Magnus’ love and attention, and then he has been the subject of his contempt and hostility. It’s so strange to have things be so easy with Magnus now, in the best possible way. Alec had grown thick skin over the years as a necessary act of self-preservation, but Magnus, like his mother and father and Jace and Izzy, never had to try to be able to pierce through it. Just the thought of having this tentative friendship helps ease a weight from Alec’s shoulders.

“I’m glad I could catch you before the meeting started,” says Magnus. “Do you have a couple minutes? I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Alec hesitates, immediately wary. 

“Just me?” he clarifies. “Not the Cabinet?”

“It’s about what happened with Goldleaf.”

“Magnus,” starts Alec, not sure what else to say about this. He thought they’d come to an understanding the other day. “I don’t–”

“It’s not about the verdict,” interrupts Magnus. “Just – please, Alexander. Give me two minutes.”

Alec wonders if Magnus knows how he looks to Alec when his gaze is so wide and imploring. The sweeping black lining his eyes making them look softer, warmer, more vulnerable. It’s how he used to look at Alec when he was baring his heart to him, before Alec went and did the one thing that would ensure Magnus would never want to open himself up to Alec again.

Alec can’t think of a single thing he’d deny Magnus right now and it’s not just in penance. “Okay.”

They don’t go all the way back to Alec’s office. There is a quiet hallway leading away from the main wing and toward the kitchens, and it’s only a few steps away from the entrance. People can and probably will walk by, but it’s secluded enough from the main activity.

“I have something I wanted to give you,” says Magnus. Alec watches curiously as Magnus pulls something out from the inside pocket of his jacket.

It’s a bracelet. It’s made out of marble-sized mahogany beads, and Alec’s reminded vividly of a rosary – one that’s small enough to fit around a wrist. Plain and understated, just shy of elegant. Alec doesn’t wear jewellery but this is something that he would easily be able to have on him without it feeling strange or getting in the way of his day to day work.

“This is for you,” says Magnus, holding it out to Alec on his open palm. “I spent the last few days working with it, placing charms and protective spells. It’ll grow hot when you’re about to face danger.”

Frowning, Alec says, “About to?”

“I suppose the easiest way to think about it is to imagine the spell can prophesize seconds in advance,” explains Magnus. “A lovely seelie asked me to make this for her once, worried about the long list of spurned lovers she’s gathered over the decades. Immortals certainly know how to hold a grudge, and they can get quite gruesomely creative, so she wanted something special. Something no one else had or could expect. As you can imagine, the price for something like that was steep, but she agreed that the payment was quite reasonable: a favour of my asking, granted without any questions or conditions.”

Magnus is rambling, a sign of his nerves, but Alec just grows more and more wary with each word he hears.

“Magnus...” he starts. “I can’t take this.”

“Don’t be silly, Alexander, of course you can.” 

“I’m not,” says Alec sharply. If this had been a token from Magnus, his boyfriend, Alec wouldn’t have thought about it once before accepting. But now, knowing that Magnus isn’t his anything – barely a friend – it just feels wrong. Uncomfortable. “This is too much.”

“It’s nothing,” dismisses Magnus. It’s a direct contradiction to everything he has just said. He starts to frown. “Please, accept this from me. It’s already been made, it’s already tied to your energy signature. You just have to put it on.”

“It’s not nothing. The seelie you made this for was willing to promise you any favour in return for this,” reminds Alec. “I don’t know what that translates into in money, but I know I don’t have enough to afford this kind of protection and – and I don’t have the luxury to give you a magical promise of an undecided favour.” 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” says Magnus, and his face is a complicated mix of offence, anger and – Alec can’t be reading it right. There’s no way the most prominent emotion overtaking Magnus right now is _hurt._ His fingers wrap around the bracelet almost protectively, as though to protect it from Alec’s words. “For you, it’s a gift. Magic like this is the most powerful when it’s freely given.”

A gift. 

“I can’t take this,” repeats Alec. 

“Why not?” asks Magnus, and this time the impatience is clear in his voice. “I’ve given you gifts before. How’s this any different from – from me portaling us to Tokyo or getting us dinner from the Cape? How’s this different from summoning all those demons? This is more important than that – this could save your _life.”_

“You can’t be serious,” says Alec, incredulous at the turn of conversation. His disbelief is so strong that there’s barely even a sting in hearing Magnus bring up so easily some of the best parts of their past relationship.

“Alexander, there have been very few times in the last four hundred years that I’ve been this serious.”

“You really don’t see how that’s different?”

“It’s my magic,” says Magnus, as though that’s all that there is to it. “And you’ve always had it at your disposal.”

“Magnus, all that stuff was either the Institute hiring you for official business or – or it was having my boyfriend wanting to do something nice for a date. This is – I don’t know what this is.”

Magnus stares at him. He looks devastated. Like Alec’s words are a physical blow, and Alec feels almost angry at the guilt that rises inside him. How could this have gone so wrong so fast when just minutes ago he had made Magnus smile in greeting?

There is an uncomfortably long moment of silence as Alec just stands there. Just as he’s about to say that they can pick this up later, that they should head to the meeting hall, Magnus takes a deep breath and Alec’s snaps to attention.

“Fine,” says Magnus, voice raw. “If you – if you insist on this being a transaction, then fine. Give me one hundred dollars. That’s my price.”

“What?” says Alec, and he can’t stop himself from scowling. “Don’t patronize me. This is obviously worth a thousand times that. Why are you – why are you pushing so hard?”

Magnus opens his mouth multiple times to start before pausing, seemingly unable to find the right words. “Alexander,” he says. “What do you think – I’m trying to do what I can to protect you.”

“Why?” asks Alec, and now he’s getting frustrated. 

“Why?” repeats Magnus. “Because I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have had to threaten my way into your hospital room. I would have been able to help you faster, more effectively. The poison wouldn’t have reached as deeply as it did if I had. Everyone should have known that if anything happens to you the first thing they should do is call me.”

Alec finally starts to understand.

“That’s – that’s not how it works, Magnus,” he says. “It sucks what happened, but it exposed a weakness in our ranks and we’re taking steps to fix it. Nobody could have stopped it. This isn’t–” Alec has to stop, the words gathering in his throat familiar and all the more upsetting because of it. “You can’t help everyone. This isn’t your responsibility.” 

“Yes it _is_ ,” disagrees Magnus with a fierceness that stops Alec short. “You’re not just anyone, Alexander, and I should always, _always_ be there to help you.” Magnus takes Alec’s hands, presses the bracelet into his palms. “I want you to have this because I care about you. Because I love you, Alexander. Why else would I be–”

Alec doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence.

“What?” he says. There’s a ringing in his ears, and he has to shake his head in an attempt to clear it. “What?” he repeats.

“I love you,” says Magnus and even though Alec’s not consciously thinking about it, some part of him must realize that the necessary thing to do is pull away. But Magnus is still holding onto Alec’s hands, the beads of the bracelet is digging into Alec’s skin and Alec – Alec doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why Magnus refuses to let go, refuses to break away from Alec’s gaze when Alec can’t because he’s frozen in place. 

“I love you,” says Magnus a third time, as though maybe this time around it’ll make sense to Alec. It doesn’t. “I shouldn’t have waited this long to say it. I just – I didn’t know how.”

“Stop,” says Alec. He says this with force, can feel the single syllable scrape against his throat but somehow it sounds faint, lost underneath the hammering of his pulse. God. Alec had thought that he’d already reached the pinnacle of heartbreak from his relationship with Magnus, had learned to live with this constant, lingering ache. 

Alec had no idea. He had no idea how much worse it could get, realizing that this is the first time Magnus has said he loves Alec in a long, long time. And the time before that, he suddenly remembers, it had been a goodbye. 

“Just stop,” says Alec, voice hoarse. Harsh. “Don’t say these things. You’re confusing me.”

“I want to say these things,” says Magnus, denying Alec’s request. “I don’t want you to be confused. I love you, Alexander. I never stopped. Not for one second. I don’t know how not to love you.”

“I–” It’s getting hard for Alec to breathe. Alec thinks in straight lines and logical progressions, and this is just – this is just information that’s completely inconsistent with the reality he’s been living the past few months. He doesn’t understand what’s happening here, doesn’t know where all this is coming from. 

There’s only one thing that could, maybe, possibly make sense. 

“Are you feeling guilty about what Randall did?” asks Alec. “Is that why you’re saying all this? Because you thought you should’ve been able to stop it?”

“No, I–” Magnus looks shocked, taken aback. “Of course I should have been there to stop it, but that’s not what I’m saying or why I’m saying it.”

“Then why _are_ you saying it? Why now, when nothing is different?”

Magnus seems to be at a loss for words. The time between each second stretches longer and longer. Alec doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be because he has no idea what to possibly expect. 

It doesn’t add up. What Magnus is saying doesn’t make sense, and worse still – his words open up the gates to all the thoughts Alec hasn’t let himself think in months.

Alec understands anger and hurt and heartbreak, but he also thought that he understood love. At least understands the only kind of love he has any experience with – the kind that he has for his family, something vast and yielding. Something permanent. Something that he thought he had with Magnus, even if he hadn’t been able to do right by it the way he should have, the way he so desperately wanted to. 

Alec doesn’t understand the coldness, the refusal to make amends. 

And even if – even if what Magnus means what he’s saying, then why bother if the truth of it doesn’t change anything? Everything is the same as it was last week, last month, since Valentine was killed, since the rifts to Edom were closed, since the seelies showed their hand, since Alec didn’t tell Magnus about the Sword. Even the fact that Alec almost died, now that he takes a second to think about it critically, isn’t anything different. It’s an occupational hazard that’s a package deal with who Alec is as a person.

Even if Magnus has loved him for all this time, what does it matter? Hadn’t he told Alec the same right before he walked away, having accepted that love wasn’t enough of a reason to try and try again? Hadn’t Alec learned a hard lesson in the last few months, that some mistakes just couldn’t be forgiven? Magnus’ love for Alec had held him back. It had been a burden to be divested and everything’s still the same as it’s always been. Alec is still the same as he's always been and it doesn’t – it doesn’t make sense.

They stand in silence until Alec’s cellphone alarm goes off.

Alec startles back into awareness. He sounds distant even to his own ears. “The meeting’s about to start.”

When Alec goes to move though, Magnus’ grip on his hands gets tighter.

“Alexander,” says Magnus, and Alec doesn’t know how to categorize the tone of Magnus’ voice. He does know how to categorize the look on Magnus’ face, however, beautiful and striking even in sorrow.

Thankfully, Alec's had a lot of experience compartmentalizing over the past few months. He's had even more experience compartmentalizing over the last ten years of his life. 

This time when Alec pulls away, Magnus lets him go. His fingers curl around the bracelet Alec leaves behind. “The meeting’s about to start, Magnus. We’ve got work to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! thank you to everyone who took the time to read Chapter 1 and kudo-ing/bookmarking/leaving incredibly thoughtful comments!! i really, really appreciate it. special thank you also, as always, to [partnerincrime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partnerincrime/pseuds/partnerincrime) and [beatperfume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume/pseuds/beatperfume) for the hours and hours spent helping me get this story in shape. 
> 
> enjoy reading Chapter 2!! <3

**INTERLUDE – APRIL, PART II**

_I love you, Alexander. I never stopped. Not for one second. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how not to love yo–_

“It looks like our nephilim representative is still recovering from his near-death incident,” says Raphael dryly, abruptly dragging Alec out of his thoughts. “Do you have something more important in your mind, Lightwood?”

“ _Raphael Santiago_ ,” hisses Magnus. The venom in his eyes and voice has Alec reeling, but Raphael just looks unimpressed. 

“I can assure you that this is the most important thing in my mind right now,” says Alec carefully, looking at his notes and seeing that somehow, miraculously, he had still been blindly writing down points on what Raphael had been saying. “And while I agree that the penalties on newborn vampires for lapsing to their biological need to survive is–”

“Barbaric?” says Raphael pleasantly.

“‘Unnecessarily harsh’ might be a better way to pitch it,” says Luke dryly.

“At this time, I’m just going to say, ‘going to have to change,’” says Alec. “But we need to be strategic about this. The Clave’s not going to let you deal with it internally if mundanes are the ones that are victims. That’s just – they’re not going to agree to that.”

“That’s certainly something, wouldn’t you say? Since it’s protocol for the Clave to handle things ‘internally’ whenever a downworlder is collateral damage.”

“It’s a broken system,” says Alec tightly. “But we have to navigate within it.”

“Do we, though?” asks Raphael. He sounds thoughtful. He turns to face Magnus, and the tension Alec has felt building in his chest goes up a notch. “Magnus, when was the last time a downworld representative successfully pushed up the cycle for re-affirming the Accords?”

Magnus looks like he’s five seconds away from lighting someone on fire. Whether it’s Alec or Raphael is anyone’s guess. “You know the answer to that is ‘never,’ Raphael.”

 _Never,_ Magnus had told Alec just an hour earlier. _I never stopped._

A brief pause, and then Raphael says, “Well. I guess there’s always a first time for everything.”

Luke frowns as he looks from person to person around the table. “This isn’t something we can partake in lightly, gentlemen. We would only get one chance. Maybe it would be best to wait until... emotions aren’t running so high.”

“Okay,” says Alec, shortly. It’s only when he puts his pen down that he realizes how tightly he had been gripping it, the joints of his fingers cracking as he lets go. “I think we can table this until next week – or hold a priority meeting earlier, if everyone agrees it’s pertinent. We still have more short-term items to address today.”

“Actually, maybe we should wrap up for today,” says Luke. “Alec, you don’t look too good, and there’s nothing else in the agenda that needs the entire Cabinet.”

“I’m fine,” says Alec firmly. “We’ll put together something about Mr. Santiago’s... proposal for later in the week. Maybe it’ll be better to host it unofficially. Outside the Institute’s walls. Is everyone okay with that?” 

Alec looks at Raphael as he says the last bit.

“That sounds acceptable,” consents Raphael graciously. “Glad to hear that everyone’s on the same page. Our time’s almost up though, so let’s move on to item number seven in Lightwood’s agenda.” 

Alec has never had to struggle so much to keep his concentration on the matter at hand. Maybe he really is still recovering, he thinks. He’s normally adept at boxing away personal discontent to get the job done. It hadn’t even been this hard when Magnus wouldn’t talk to him, look at him during these sessions. Alec had even gotten used to it to some degree – he had at least known to expect the feelings of loss.

Now all Alec feels is his heart hammering in his chest, trying to bear the weight of Magnus’ burning gaze on him while still trying to listen and process Luke’s concerns. 

Somehow, they make it through the rest of the meeting. By rote, Alec walks Luke out and watches with a strange detachedness as Magnus opens a portal for Raphael in the foyer. 

_I love you,_ Magnus had said. The sounds and sights around Alec become muted, out of focus. The memory of Magnus’ voice is the only thing clear to Alec’s perception right now, even as he still doesn’t understand why Magnus had said what he did, and what he had meant. _I shouldn’t have waited this long to say it._

“Magnus,” says Alec. It comes out almost without his permission, without his conscious will. The step he takes toward the two of them is more of the same. “Mr. Bane. Would you mind staying behind for a second?”

Alec can see the exact moment Magnus stills in place, paused in motion. 

Raphael briefly squeezes Magnus’ shoulder before gently pushing him back and stepping through the gate back to the DuMort. “Until next time, Lightwood.”

As the portal winks shut behind Raphael, the sound of storming winds vanish as well. The silence that falls is so vast that Alec forgets, for just a moment, that sound is a concept that exists. 

And then Magnus turns to face him. His back and shoulders straight as he crosses his arms across his chest, gripping his elbows. A physical barrier between them. To protect himself from Alec, to keep Alec out – Alec doesn’t know. What Alec does know is that all his wounds are slashed open right now, just looking at Magnus. 

Alec realizes he has no idea what’s going on inside that head of his. Alec remembers thinking that Magnus’ mind was a clockwork of magic, and he’d been – so eager to learn him, to _know_ him. He used to understand all the words that Magnus never said. And now Alec doesn’t even understand the words Magnus _does_ say.

But Alec wants to. He wants to know what Magnus means when he speaks. Especially – especially the things he had been saying earlier. 

“Can we talk?” asks Alec, abrupt. “In my office?”

“All right,” says Magnus, even as everything about his body language says no. 

Alec frowns. “You don’t have to go out of your way or anything.”

Running a tired hand over his face, Magnus says, “No, I – I want to talk. I want to talk, Alexander. Lead the way.”

Alec leads the way. He must walk at a brisker pace than he realized because Magnus doesn’t get to the office until a few seconds after Alec does. Or maybe it’s Magnus who slows himself down. Alec doesn’t see him come in, only hears the sound of Magnus quietly shutting the door behind him with a soft click. 

Magnus was just here a few days ago. To tell Alec to fight against Goldleaf’s verdict. Alec hadn’t thought anything that day except how strange and hopeful it was that they could have a civil conversation. 

All at once Alec realizes he doesn’t know what to say. Anything he thinks of seems inadequate, lost between the formation of the thought and gathering the words at the tip of his tongue. There is something inside of Alec that has been kicked out of equilibrium. He suddenly finds himself in unfamiliar territory when he thinks about Magnus, and where Alec stands with him.

Perhaps it’s this that’s causing Alec to stumble, to lose his words – this new lack of understanding of the rules and boundaries and parameters which govern his world. 

And if that’s the case, then Alec has a starting point.

Clearing his throat, Magnus asks, “What did you–”

“Why were you saying all of that before?”

“Saying what, Alexander?” He doesn’t sound put off at all by Alec’s brusque interruption.

“You said that you – that you–” Alec can’t actually say the words, but he finally turns to look at Magnus. Magnus doesn’t help Alec fill in the missing blanks like he would have, once upon a time, when he would be able to tell with just a passing glance that Alec was in desperate need of assistance, struggling to find a foothold on the side of a mountain. He’s just gazing at Alec like Alec’s the only thing he sees, fingers once again clutching at his elbows. 

Throat dry, Alec says, “What did you mean? Just – I don’t understand what’s going on, Magnus.”

“What don’t you understand?” Magnus takes a step toward Alec and when Alec almost instinctively takes a step back, he freezes in his tracks. It takes a moment for Magnus to start again. “I said that I love you because I do. And I didn’t – I don’t want you to think otherwise.”

“Okay,” says Alec.

“Okay?” repeats Magnus.

“Yes, okay.” Magnus has never lied to Alec. Not about the things Alec has done right, and certainly not about the things Alec has done wrong. Alec can accept that Magnus means what he is saying, even if he can’t reconcile that fact with everything else that had happened since. 

After all, Magnus had meant it all those months ago, hadn’t he? It hadn’t changed anything. It hadn’t changed what needed to be done.

“Is that all you were trying to do?” asks Alec. “You just – you wanted me to know. You didn’t want anything else, so we’ll go back to how things have been.”

“Alexander,” says Magnus, looking disbelieving. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think,” says Alec tersely. There’s a faint sense of crawling underneath his skin. Alec had forgotten that he has no armour when it comes to Magnus. Nothing that Magnus can’t shatter with just a stray thought of him. “That’s why I’m asking – asking what you want from me.”

Magnus closes his eyes, some physical force overtaking his body. “You asked me something like this once before.”

“I did,” says Alec, remembering. That seems like a lifetime ago. Even back then he had been hurting Magnus. “And you said you didn’t want anything. And if that’s what you’re–”

“No,” says Magnus, shaking his head. “That isn’t what I’m saying at all. I’m saying the opposite.”

“Magnus, just – just give it to me straight.” 

“I want to stop feeling so – so damn lonely when I see you, and not be able to do anything about it. I want to stop feeling that way when I _don’t_ see you.” If Alec hadn’t been in a perpetual state of heartbreak for the last half year, then Magnus’ fractured voice right now would’ve done him in. “I want to be with you, Alexander. I want everything with you.” 

Alec stares at him. “Why?”

“Because I love you,” repeats Magnus, uncomprehending. He doesn’t look away from Alec. “What other reason do I need? What other reason do you want?”

Any other reason. Alec literally wants any other reason except this – the one reason he knows for certain isn’t enough.

But Magnus doesn’t say anything more, and Alec finally goes, “I don’t – I don’t know what you want to hear, Magnus. I don’t know what to tell you.”

It’s not the answer that Magnus wanted to hear. There is a tightness at the corners of Magnus’ eyes and mouth, and it’s – it’s unhappiness. It’s not the same unhappiness that Alec sees daily, staring at the mirror every morning and reminding himself that he doesn’t have the option of feeling tired and grief-stricken, but – it’s unhappiness nonetheless. And Alec is the source of it. 

“Well,” says Magnus. He straightens, and it looks like it takes every inch of effort he has to let his arms drop to his sides and hold himself tall. “When you do, you know where to find me.” 

-  
-

 

**AUGUST**

There’s a book on ancient runes Magnus has been looking for and Alec promises to look around the Institute to see if it somehow ended up in New York. Alec starts with the shelves in his own office and he’s in the middle of this search when he’s interrupted by a knock. 

It’s his mother. 

“You look like you’re busy,” she remarks, still waiting at the doorway. She has a folder clasped in her hands. The way she’s looking at him is warm; it makes her look like Izzy even more so than the way she has her long hair twisted into a neat braid, ready to be called into action. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, come in,” says Alec, waving her in. “I’m just trying to find this book, I can get back to it later. What’s going on?”

Maryse has slowly been transitioning back to New York over the last few months. She’s still over at Idris often, still a formidable asset for the Clave, but Alec has noticed that those trips are shorter. Maryse has most of her belongings at the Institute, and Alec has her set up in the room reserved for the most prestigious of envoys. He didn’t want her back in the room she and Robert shared when they were running the place, and he also wasn’t going to assign her a room among the other shadowhunters. Maryse Lightwood, née Trueblood, might not be the leader of the Institute anymore, but there’s a certain respect she commands within these walls, certain duties she carries out on Alec’s behest as the Head, and Alec will honour that. 

Also, she’s Alec’s mother. He’ll find another place to put Inquisitor Herondale the next time she decides to pay them a visit.

Maryse takes a seat on one of the two chairs facing the desk, back and shoulders straight. Alec sits beside her. There are some people, he has learned, he can’t be on the other side of this desk from – especially when he knows they’re there to see him as Alec, the son or friend or brother, and not his technical position as their boss.

Of course, it’s right then that his mother starts to talk and says, “I wanted to talk to you about something. Officially.”

“All right,” he says, nodding at the folder on her lap. “Something to do with that?”

“Yes,” says Maryse. She looks down at her hands, takes a deep breath and continues, “You’re the first of you and your siblings I’m telling this to, but a few months ago I told your father I wanted our separation to be legal, not just situational. He agreed, and we both decided that it was for the best if this happened quickly and quietly without publicizing it. These are the papers confirming that it’s done. I just received them this morning.”

Alec is not sure exactly what these words invoke in him. There’s a strange mix of pride and humility, born from the knowledge of the courage this must have needed. Relief that she’d taken this step, even though he would’ve understood if she hadn’t.

It’s not that Alec had been expecting anything in particular when he saw her at the door, but. He _really_ hadn’t been expecting this.

“You’re being quiet, Alec,” says Maryse, when Alec lets the silence linger for too long. She’s looking at him now, a defiant tilt to her chin. Alec has seen this expression on the mirror all those times he had steeled himself up to face the world and knows exactly what’s going through his mother’s mind and he doesn’t want her to think that, think for even a second that Alec is not in her corner for this.

“Sorry,” he says, and reaches forward to grasp her hand. “I don’t know what to say except that it must have been hard to make that decision.”

“Only because I was being a coward,” says Maryse dismissively.

“You mean because you were being brave,” corrects Alec. “And I know how hard it is to be brave.” The way his mother’s eyes grow bright and she tries to blink it away – Alec clears his throat and asks, “How’re you doing?” 

“Fine,” she says, but she squeezes his fingers once before letting go. “I did come here to talk to you about something else as well, related to this. As you know, your father and I had moved to Idris for your father’s career. My political aspirations are not as strong and – well, the more time that goes on, the more I think that maybe – maybe the agenda at Idris isn’t one that I want to support right now but the one here at New York is.”

Once again, Alec doesn’t know how to describe the reaction that his mother’s statement invokes in him. “Really?”

“Is it really such a surprise?”

“No, I – I know you support what the Cabinet stands for. It just means a lot.” 

“Oh?” says Maryse, and this time it’s her that looks surprised.

“Of course,” says Alec, voice rough. Even though the conviction inside Alec is enough to keep him going down this path – and it always had been enough, despite the whispers from the shadowhunters at the Institute which had been the loudest in the months he’d been separated from Magnus, convinced that it would be just a matter of time before Alec found the remnants of his self-respect and put an end to this show to impress his warlock lover – Alec can’t say that it doesn’t ease a weight off his shoulders to hear that he’s not alone in this. 

And that his mother, who had been one of the most vocal adversaries to downworlders would say this, who has a history with the Circle and had actively spoken down to the man that Alec loves – Alec lets himself be happy. Not just satisfied or proud. He’s allowed to be emotional, he thinks. He’s allowed to care more about this outcome than if it was one of the hundred other shadowhunters under his command who had admitted the same to him.

Giving him a tired but genuine smile, Maryse says, “The official question I had for you, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute–”

“By the angel,” says Alec, rolling his eyes. “Mother, are you trying to embarrass me?”

“You need to have pride in your title, Alec,” says Maryse matter-of-factly, and they’re back in business. “The reason I started the conversation how I did is to give you context.” She pats the folder on her lap again. “This doesn’t just have the divorce papers. I want to officially put in a request to transfer to the Institute. Is that fine with you?”

Alec is stumped. 

“Of course,” he says. There’s something inside him that feels strangely raw at the question. “You’re my mother. Even if I’m somehow in charge of this Institute now, there are some things – there are some things you don’t need my permission for.”

Maryse shakes her head. There’s something sad in her gaze, but also resolute. A shiver goes up Alec’s spine when he realizes that this is the second time in this conversation that he recognizes himself in his mother. 

Maryse says, “I think in your whole life, there were times I should have asked you certain things and I didn’t. Times when I should have stopped you from doing certain things, but didn’t. So until I can figure out where the line is, this is how I’m going to go about it.”

This kind of tenderness isn’t something Alec is used to with his mother. It feels wrong, to think of her holding herself back for him. To think of her being aware of his bruised heart and taking steps to be gentle with it.

Still, he nods. He says, “Okay, well, officially there’s always room at the Institute for Maryse Lightwood, the best of her class at the Academy for close range combat with a seraph blade. Also officially, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you that this is probably the right time to bring up.”

Looking wary, Maryse asks, “What is it?”

“I want you to be the deputy Head,” says Alec, cutting to the chase. At the shocked look on her face, Alec adds, “You know the Institute and how it works better than anyone I know. You’re someone I trust, who also understands how things work at Idris, the politics involved with running this place. And you’re sympathetic to what we’re trying to do here. There’s no one else who fits all these categories.”

“I suppose that’s all true,” says Maryse, frowning. “But Alec – my history is what it is. The members of your Cabinet are not going to like this. And your shadowhunters won’t either.”

“I trust you,” repeats Alec. “And I don’t have a perfect history either, but I’m doing my best. This is the right decision for the Institute and I’ll deal with the repercussions as I always have. I can’t stop myself from doing what I think is right just because other people might not be happy about it.”

When Maryse doesn’t look convinced, Alec says, “You don’t have to say yes, and you don’t have to give me an answer now. I had been thinking about this for a while, and hearing you want to move back here just got me to say it.”

“I appreciate it,” says Maryse, and Alec gives her a brief smile. “I’ll let you know.” 

“Okay,” says Alec. In a more lighthearted tone, he says, “If you’re worried about the Cabinet though, I can tell you on good authority that at least our local werewolf representative will be more than pleased to have you around more.”

Maryse gets to her feet, her face growing red. 

“Don’t be insolent, Alec,” she says crisply and Alec takes the reprimand with ease. “I think this conversation has reached its end. I’ll get the paperwork sorted to transfer over here.”

Alec nods. “Are you going to tell the others about Dad?”

“Yes, I’ll do that today,” says Maryse. “So maybe try to resist sharing this with your siblings until at least the evening.”

-

 

Alec lets his mother decide when she wants to tell Jace and Izzy, but he shares the news with Magnus within minutes of showing up to the loft with takeout in hand for a very, very late dinner. 

“You’re a gossip at heart, aren’t you?” teases Magnus between mouthfuls of lamb kabob. “But good for her, I guess. I suppose even Maryse doesn’t deserve to be the victim of adultery.”

“No one deserves that,” says Alec firmly. “Anyway, she’s moving back to New York. I spoke to her about being the deputy head of the Institute, and she’s being kind of cagey about accepting. Jace has obviously been doing a good job, but he hates the administration and politics and Mom’s obviously great at that stuff...”

Alec trails off when he notices Magnus has stopped eating and is staring at him with a quirked brow. “What?” 

“Nothing,” says Magnus, going back to his meal. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“That’s what Mom said,” says Alec, frowning.

“She was part of the Circle,” says Magnus. “We’re trying to do something at the New York Institute, Alexander. To build trust and overcome literally hundreds of years’ worth of bad blood. Don’t you think it’s a little counterproductive to choose Maryse Lightwood as your second-in-command?”

“Are you worried that I’ll get pushback from the downworld? That they’ll think I’m not serious or something because of my mother’s history?” Realizing he’s finished his little bowl of _moutabbal_ , Alec adds, “Hey, can I have some of your– thanks.” 

“Of course. And yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. And not just for downworlders. It’s going to look like nepotism to the shadowhunters, which is admittedly nothing new for the nephilim but still a source of contention, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” says Alec, thinking back to that brief period of time when Inquisitor Herondale had appointed Jace as the Head of the Institute. He could have choked on the bitterness. And that had been _Jace_ who had been benefiting from his newly discovered ties to the Herondale – Jace, who Alec would follow to the ends of the Earth. 

At the Institute, Alec’s aware that the goodwill he’s garnered over the years as a reliable warrior and being level-headed in his decision making – at least as far as his professional duties go – isn’t infinite. He doesn’t expect it to be. Alec knows that this respect, like so many other things, has to be earned, maintained, through continuous action and tangible results. 

Trying to pull these multiple diverging threads together, Alec says, “Well, she’s the best choice. I’d like to think my shadowhunters are self-aware enough to know they wouldn’t be better at this than Maryse Lightwood.”

Magnus looks deeply unimpressed. “You give your people far too much credit.”

“Maybe you give them too little.” 

“Well, they _are_ at a distinct disadvantage,” says Magnus, and he sounds almost... flirtatious? Alec barely has the time to wonder why he’d thought that when Magnus answers the unasked question by saying, “Since I’ll always be comparing them to you, and as a consequence, they’ll always fall short. Perhaps I’m not the best person to talk about this.”

“ _Perhaps_ ,” repeats Alec, turning his gaze down toward his dinner because there’s no way he can squash the stupid, happy smile that’s pulling at his mouth if he keeps looking at Magnus and the mischief that’s dancing in his eyes. 

“You know I have no objectivity when it comes to you.”

“Well, that’s no good for this conversation then,” says Alec dryly. Something about Magnus’ words don’t sit quite right though, but then Magnus laughs, and Alec gets distracted by the sound. “Okay, then tell me about the other side. What’re the warlocks and the werewolves and the vampires going to think?” 

“I can hardly tell the future, Alexander.”

“Magnus. I obviously meant your opinion.”

Magnus sighs theatrically. “Fine, I’ll stop playing. But you don’t need me to say anything. You know the answer to this. Your integrity is going to be called into question, Alexander. Maryse might be your mother, but she personally carried out the Circle’s mandate before you were born. It won’t look good and every step you’ve made so far won’t mean as much as this.”

All this has run through Alec’s mind already. 

“I’m not going to not do something just because of optics, Magnus. Especially when she’s actively trying to be better.” 

“I’m not telling you what to do, Alexander,” says Magnus. “I’m just telling you what I think will happen. Raphael and Lucien know you well enough, I think, to understand your intentions but they’ll have their work cut out for them convincing their people that negotiating with the shadowhunters isn’t all just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, I know, and it’s – thanks. Thank you. I don’t know if I say it enough but I really appreciate your insights. Not just on downworld politics but shadowhunter ones, too.” This does make Alec wonder something though. “Will I get pushback from you?”

Magnus looks startled to be asked the question. 

“What are you talking about?

“It’s okay if the answer is yes,” says Alec, wanting to be clear that he’s not angling for a particular response. “I don’t know all the people my parents – killed or tortured when they were in the Circle, but you do. I know that I’m never going to be able to make a decision that’ll satisfy everyone but if I can, I’d like to make you happy. So I’m asking. Because the reality is that what you think matters to me in a different way than what Luke or Raphael or the Seelie Queen do. It matters more.”

And this might not be the best way for a leader of one of the Institutes to be thinking, not the best way to be weighing his options and making his decisions. But Alec has more responsibilities than just to the downworld and the Clave and he can’t separate himself from it. He never could. It’s a losing battle having everything tied for first place but somewhere along the way Alec had made a promise to himself that he’d keep trying until he really did lose everything: Magnus, his runes, his family. 

When Magnus doesn’t say anything in response and just continues to – to look at Alec, as though he doesn’t understand what Alec is saying, Alec says, “You think about it.”

That shakes Magnus out of it.

“I don’t need to think about it,” he says abruptly. “You’re not going to get pushback from me. I’m just – I wasn’t expecting the question. I thought you would’ve already known the answer.” 

“What d’you mean?” asks Alec, frowning. “You take your job to represent your people seriously.”

“Yes, and I know that you wouldn’t make a decision that would harm them.”

“I mean, I don’t want to,” says Alec. There’s something to be said about being so familiar with failure, that the prospect of it doesn’t slow him down anymore. “But I obviously have before, and chances are it’ll happen again, so.”

“So nothing,” says Magnus curtly. “You try to do what’s right, and if that doesn’t work out then we’ll deal with it. Together.”

“Magnus,” starts Alec, and he can almost _see_ Magnus’ walls going up for no discernible reason. Not for the first time in the last few weeks, frustration wells up inside Alec. He has no idea what he’s said or done to put that look on Magnus’ face, and even though Magnus’ words are promising – even optimistic – there’s no question that he’s not happy about something. 

Before he can ask what’s wrong, however, Magnus says in his usual conversational tone, “Anyway, the only person with real authority who would have caused waves would be the seelie queen, and she isn’t a problem for now. Thank goodness for small mercies.”

It’s an obvious a hint that Magnus wants to move on from what they were previously talking about, even though it could easily just be the next natural step to their talk. 

Though this does remind Alec of another problem. 

“We should really try to get in touch with the seelie realm, though,” says Alec. “I don’t like how they’ve vanished. From all over, not just New York.”

Magnus looks troubled as well. “Yes, I’ll pull some favours, see if anyone’s heard anything in the fringes. Do some reconnaissance.” 

“Sounds intense.”

“Not really. My usual combination of charm and bartering should do the trick. And if it doesn’t, well...” 

“Well…?” prompts Alec, curious about the remainder of the sentence. 

“I’ll just move on to less legitimate means,” says Magnus, unconcerned. “You must know that I’m not above bribery and the occasional threat to get the job done.”

There’s something indescribably sexy about Magnus sleuthing around the globe and gathering intel, coaxing secrets out with that dangerously calm voice, blue fire crackling at his fingertips. While it’s true that Magnus’ warmth and kindness causes Alec’s heart to seize in his chest, sometimes, there’s no denying the instantaneous effect of Magnus’ raw, unbridled power on Alec: he feels his mouth go dry just at the thought of it, remembering the press of those singed fingers against the rune on Alec’s neck, the scrape of his nails just sharp enough to send a thrill down Alec’s spine. That uncertainty in Alec’s chest from the strangeness of their conversation just a few moments earlier gives way to something heady, something scorching hot.

He stares at Magnus’ hands for long enough that Magnus notices. Magnus reaches to touch the cuff of his ear, almost absently, and the movement jars Alec out of his daze. Magnus’ eyes look like they’ve got two flaming worlds behind them and Alec can feel the weight of it pressing down on his chest. 

Fuck, thinks Alec, heart hammering in the cage of his ribs. Something about thinking this in the kitchen of Magnus’ loft seems – inappropriate, somehow, and all the more tempting for it and Alec can’t make himself stop. It’s been so long since he’s let himself be consumed by this want. It’s been longer still since he’s actually had Magnus that close, touching the parts of Alec that have been aching to be touched for months. Since Alec had felt that exhilaration, that exquisite tension and unbearable urgency. Since he’s thought about the subsequent relief and ecstasy that overtakes him after, lighting up his nerves.

“Alexander,” murmurs Magnus, and it occurs to Alec that Magnus has not once looked away from him. Goosebumps break out across his skin at the realization. The suddenly loud silence of the loft is overwhelmed by the pounding of Alec’s pulse drumming against his ears and he feels the hairs on his arm rise, the electricity in his cells gathering charge and trying to ground his body. 

Only Magnus can ignite this in him, and all at once Alec remembers he used to wonder whether it really was Magnus’ magic traveling through him. It must be, he thinks, physically unable to break his gaze from Magnus. Nobody else could ever compare, do to him what Magnus does with just a look, barely even a touch, only a whisper of his name. Magnus is just so– 

Abruptly, a siren goes off and Alec’s awareness is unwillingly pulled back to the present.

“What the hell?” says Alec, wincing at the deafening sound. “What’s going on?”

“Something’s wrong at Pandemonium,” says Magnus. It takes him a beat after saying that to get to his feet, and Alec notices that the movement seems almost uncertain. With an irritated wave of Magnus’ hand, the ringing stops. “Of course there would be something happening right now. Of course.”

Shaking his head, Magnus says, “I’ll – I’ll just pop out to go deal with this, Alexander.”

“You want me to come with you?” asks Alec, ears still not working right.

“It’s up to you,” says Magnus, and a portal opens in the living room. “You’re more than welcome to stay here if you’d like. Hopefully it won’t take too long.”

Magnus’ eyes are still distracted, pupils starting to edge open. If it’s up to Alec on what to do next, then he knows the answer – Alec wants to kiss him. The alarm, other than jarring Alec out of his daze, does nothing to tone down the adrenaline that’s racing through his veins. Alec wants to feel the soft press of Magnus’ lips and the hot press of his tongue, wants to draw out those long, breathless moans from his throat. 

Alec already feels his muscles tensing, his pants starting to feel uncomfortably tight. It takes everything he can not to shift, not to do _something_ to abate the need, once again unused to the feeling. If Alec does that – if Alec kisses him right now as he so desperately wants to – there’s zero chance that they’ll leave the loft. 

If Alec kisses him right now, he’s not going to just stop at Magnus’ mouth. 

So Alec doesn’t kiss Magnus, because Magnus needs to go – and feeling a trickle of unease at the thought of staying at Magnus’ home without Magnus there, Alec says, “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

-

 

The portal opens up to what must be Magnus’ office on the second floor and Magnus walks straight over to the glass windows that overlook the main area of the club. Magnus must still be recovering from that strangely charged moment over dinner, because there’s an impatient clip to his step and a fire in his eyes as he sweeps his gaze over the dance floor.

“This better be something good,” he mutters. He sounds so annoyed that Alec can’t help but smile. 

“Ten bucks says it’s because some guy’s trying to get laid,” he says, having heard enough stories from Magnus to know what kind of behaviour would lead to the wards around Pandemonium to go off. 

“You have to try better than that to hustle me,” says Magnus, looking amused.

It turns out that Magnus should’ve taken Alec up on the bet – some quick investigation reveals that Magnus’ alarm system had been activated not because somebody was trying to pick up, but because somebody had _already_ picked up a succubus the night before, had promptly fallen in love, and currently wasn’t handling the news that it was a one time thing very well. The wards are coded to identify specific words and threats and intent, Magnus had explained to Alec once, a lifetime ago now. And in cases like this, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Sex and alcohol are more than enough to trigger violence and murder.

A very messy situation all around, and the only thing that could’ve made it worse was if one of the parties involved was a shadowhunter. Alec thanks the angel that it wasn’t – and naturally, the first punch gets thrown just as Magnus arrives to defuse the crowd with Alec right at heels. 

There are certain, unspoken rules between the two of them when it comes to navigating their respective jurisdictions. It’s Alec’s place to lead when they’re at the Institute, in the control centre and Magnus doesn’t interfere. At the Cabinet, it’s Alec’s place to listen and give perspective on what they can accomplish with the flawed system they’re in, where there’s room to push and where there’s opportunity and precedent to completely overhaul the Clave’s stipulations.

At Pandemonium, right now – Alec is only present as Magnus’ guest. If shadowhunters aren’t involved then Alec isn’t going to get involved either, not unless Magnus needs it.

Alec hasn’t been here since the night he met Magnus. That was almost a year ago. Even before that, Alec has only ever been in and out of Pandemonium as required for shadowhunter business, never interfering or participating. There had never been an appeal to it then because there was no way Alec was going to press in close to any of the men that caught his eye and there’s no appeal to it now, not when the only man he wants to be that intimately close to is Magnus. 

Not that that’s going well, Alec reminds himself, still feeling the tension in his body from earlier. All just from thinking about Magnus doing what he needs to get what he wants. Alec has no defences against actually seeing Magnus take his rightful place in his kingdom. 

_“Enough,”_ growls Magnus. There is flicker of blue light and everyone involved in the brawl freezes in place. “All of you, get out.”

The fury in Magnus’ eyes would be enough to make anyone with common sense steer clear of him, but the push of his magic takes care of those who are lacking in that department. 

Everything at the club had come to a standstill when Magnus had arrived to put an end to the drama – from the music to the dancing to the changing colours of the strobe lights. Magnus seems to realize it for the first time once the group involved with the tussle clears out, how strange and loud the silence is.

“I’m sorry, did we forget to book a DJ tonight?” he calls out and with a snap of his fingers the electric, reverberating beats of a song drowns out the silence. Magnus sighs in relief when the activity starts to pick back up, groups and couples slinking in close again. 

“Well,” says Magnus, looking around with a satisfied look on his face. Alec stares as the last, stray crackle of blue lightning fizzles out of Magnus’ palms. “That was easy enough. Maybe I need to do something about the level of emergency these wards should activate for. I’d lose my mind if I had to come running every time there was a fistfight.”

“Me too,” says Alec absently, mind wandering back to where they were before the wards went off. There’s no way Alec could handle being interrupted again right when he and Magnus arrive at the precipice of taking that step. One that Alec has been unable to take all this time. 

From the way Magnus meets his gaze and draws in a sharp breath in response to whatever he finds in Alec’s eyes – he understands what Alec means. Understands that Alec wants him.

There is something kindling inside Alec, catching fire as he watches the line of Magnus’ throat move as he swallows. 

“Do you,” starts Magnus, and there’s something rough about his voice. As though he’s just woken from sleep. His mouth is still parted the slightest bit as he pauses, searching for the right words. “Do you want to dance?”

“No,” murmurs Alec, even as he steps in close. “I don’t want to dance,” and silences the small noise that escapes Magnus with a kiss.

It’s a slow kiss, but there’s nothing sweet or soft about it. It’s hot and deep and each stroke of Alec’s tongue is full of intent. It’s the kind of kiss that shouldn’t be happening outside the walls of Magnus’ bedroom because it’s nothing but a prelude to Alec’s mouth reaching other parts of his body. 

He pulls away only to draw in a breath, to look at Magnus’ face and his fluttering eyes and long lashes and slick lips and then Alec is diving back in again, fingers fisting into Magnus’ shirt. Magnus is stunning, always, but under the blue and white lights and the thunderous music drumming through Alec’s blood, Magnus looks like something else entirely. 

Magnus _feels_ like something else entirely. The slide of his hands up Alec’s torso is deliberate, languorous. Alec can’t quite stop himself from moaning, and the thrill that shoots through him having the heat of Magnus’ palms seep through the cotton of his shirt and press into his skin – the thrill of having Magnus’ fingers tangle into Alec’s hair and tug harshly, forgetting to be careful in his want – it’s nothing compared to what happens when Magnus closes that final inch of space between their bodies and his thigh presses into Alec’s hardening cock.

Alec breaks away with a gasp, the molten pleasure reminding him of where he is. Where they are. All the people around them. 

He can feel the weight of a thousand eyes on them. What’s Alec _doing?_ He’s the head of an Institute. There’s a difference between kissing Magnus hello or goodbye at the door and doing – this. There are certain standards of respectable behaviour he should be exhibiting, especially when he’s in an unwelcome environment, surrounded by people who must learn to trust him, work with him. See him as a leader, a person of authority. 

“Don’t look at them,” says Magnus the second he feels Alec tensing under his touch, as though he has forgotten that he is holding Alec’s head in place. As though Alec wants to look anywhere else but the warm brown of Magnus’ glamoured irises at any given time. “Look at me.”

“Where else am I going to look?” murmurs Alec. “Do you – d’you want to go back to your place?”

“And pick up where we left off?” asks Magnus, gaze flickering from Alec’s eyes to his mouth and back again. 

“Yeah.” Alec’s hands, which had been gripping Magnus’ elbows, slide down Magnus’ forearms. “Yeah, where we left off.”

In response, Magnus grabs Alec’s hand and starts pulling him away from the dance floor and back where they came from. 

Alec let’s himself be led through the crush of bodies, keeps his eyes on the back of Magnus’ neck. The gentle slope bridging to the beginning of his spine. Alec wants to get his mouth on that first knob, taste the salt and sweat of his skin. Kiss down the path cutting down Magnus’ back until the hollow right above his ass. It’s all that Alec can think about. So much so that when someone calls out to Magnus and brings the two of them stumbling to a stop just as they’re about to get on the stairs, it’s all Alec can do not to groan: 

“Magnus, are you leaving already?”

A lot of people had sidled up to Magnus in their little journey back to the office, placing their hands on Magnus’ shoulders, his forearms to ask for a dance, to ask how he’s been. Magnus hadn’t given them a second glance, focused on his goal of getting them back upstairs where a portal can be opened with ease. But this man doesn’t seem to be greedy for Magnus’ body, doesn’t seem to be seeking that euphoria that comes from Magnus’ touch, from being the sole person Magnus directs his attention toward. Alec understands that desire far too well, how easy it is to become a prisoner to it.

If Alec’s not mistaken though, the man who had brought Magnus to a halt is the manager of Pandemonium, running its day-to-day operations. He’s in a sharp, austere suit, has perfectly styled hair, and a clever, observant gleam to his eyes that drives home why Magnus would pick him to run the place in his absence.

“What is it, Elijah?” The impatience is clear in Magnus’ voice, a sure sign of his own frustration. Magnus is nothing but courteous to the people working for him. “I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if it’s not an emergency–”

“It’s not an emergency,” interrupts Elijah. “But still a matter of importance.”

“As much as I respect and appreciate everything you do for Pandemonium on my behalf, I don’t have time to talk in riddles just now,” says Magnus. “Say what you have to.”

Elijah’s gaze flickers, just momentarily, to Alec, before going back to Magnus.

“All right,” he says carefully. “I think it would be a good idea if you stayed the rest of the night. Not just for business, but also for morale.”

“What are you talking about?” Magnus sounds confused, but he shakes his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter because I’m not staying. We can set up a meeting for tomorrow.”

“You know it makes everyone’s night to see you here,” says Elijah, unrelenting. “With your people. Dancing and having a good time instead of being shacked up all the time with a – well. Instead of being shacked up all the time.”

Ah, thinks Alec, hearing all the words Elijah hasn’t said. Suddenly he feels more alert, not clouded by his desire for Magnus even as his body still hums with it. Magnus hears it too, judging by the way his whole body stiffens.

Once again made aware of how this place isn’t for him and uncomfortable with the feeling it leaves him with, Alec tries to remove his wrist from Magnus’ grip. He frowns when Magnus just strengthens his hold, so tight that Alec feels it start to cut off his circulation. 

“With my people,” repeats Magnus. “As opposed to what, exactly?”

“Maybe we should have this conversation in private,” says Elijah.

“Yes, maybe we should,” says Magnus, and Alec doesn’t have to see Magnus’ face to know that his lips have curled in contempt. “Because surely you couldn’t have meant that the man I want to spend the rest of my life with isn’t my _people_ , and that it’s part of my job to be having a ‘good time’ with anyone here who isn’t my boyfriend.”

“You’re being purposely obtuse,” says Elijah, looking annoyed. “I’m doing what you hired me to do – impart my opinion on what the best move would be for your business interests. I’m not even touching on the politics. There’s a reason Pandemonium was doing better than ever when you weren’t involved with nephilim, even when we were in the middle of a war.”

Speaking up for the first time, Alec says, “Magnus’ involvement with the Clave despite his aversion of them was instrumental to defeating Valentine and sealing up the rifts to Edom. That can’t be something that everyone’s already forgotten.”

Magnus looks startled at the sound of Alec’s voice, head whipping around to face him. Alec is looking at Elijah, however, who raises his eyebrows and says, “No one’s forgotten the lengths Magnus has gone to to look after us, shadowhunter. Just as how no one’s forgotten the side you chose in the same battle, despite your promises otherwise.” 

“What side I chose,” repeats Alec. Magnus seems to have had enough because he snaps, “For fuck’s sake. Elijah, I _will_ banish you to the depths of the Sahara if you don’t–” 

“Magnus,” interrupts Alec. “I want to hear what he has to say.” 

“At least you have some honour,” says Elijah, and the approval in his tone grates at Alec. “Though even Valentine and his band of merry murderers had the decency to be open about their motives.”

“And what motives are those, exactly?”

“Alexander,” says Magnus, so quiet that Alec thinks he’s using magic to whisper it just into Alec’s ear.

“To put the downworld at risk if it means benefit for yourself,” says Elijah, and his voice is perfectly pleasant. The way that he’s looking at Alec, however – if it had been Magnus who had given Alec the look that Elijah does as he says this, then Alec would’ve been cut to the bone. He knows this to be true, having already been the recipient of it during said war. But Elijah is no one to Alec beyond one more person who doesn’t like or trust him and with good reason to do so – and so it barely stings. It only serves to thicken his skin. 

“Warlocks have excellent memory, Lightwood,” says Elijah. “And live long lives to remember. Unless we choose to forget them as Magnus did, to be able to move on and forgive.”

“Magnus hasn’t forgotten anything,” says Alec, narrowing his eyes. “And you should show him more respect than to suggest otherwise.”

“Interesting,” is the only response he gets from Elijah before the man is already turning his attention back to Magnus. “Are you going to stay here tonight, then, Magnus? Preferably without the obvious presence of your shadowhunter.”

“The shadowhunter has a name,” says Magnus sharply. “And he’s got a more permanent place here than you do, so watch what you say because if he wasn’t here, I’d already have taken care of you.” Elijah sighs, looking pained and long-suffering. “Alexander and I won’t be staying for tonight. I’ll come in tomorrow and we can talk about business matters then. If Pandemonium’s profits can’t survive my personal life, then we’re doing something wrong.”

 _Survive my personal life._ It’s strange, to hear Alec be talked about as though he isn’t there. To hear that Alec is a black mark against Magnus’ reputation and his capacity as a leader. It stings, but Alec reminds himself that the situation is the same the other way around – that Alec’s choice to be open about who he is, his choice to _be_ with Magnus had repercussions on his standing with the Clave, had lost the respect he had earned through years of service. 

It begs the question why Magnus wouldn’t have talked about this with him. About the club, the dissatisfaction from the people under Magnus’ protection, about the perception about Alec and their relationship. 

But then again, why would he? Magnus doesn’t talk about his problems unless Alec pushes and pushes and pushes. And this is downworlder business – Alec should just take the hint and stay out of it unless it’s something that’s formally brought up at the Cabinet meetings. Accept that some parts of Magnus’ life will never be open to Alec to be understood. 

“If that’s what you think is best,” says Elijah agreeably to Magnus’ question before taking his leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. The regulars have been missing the chance to catch Magnus Bane’s eye every night.”

Alec scowls at the man as he walks away, almost impressed at his ability to cause dissent. Almost, because the only thing Alec is really feeling is annoyance. If Alec were a different person – if _Magnus_ was a different sort of person – then Alec doesn’t doubt there would be a different kind of uneasiness between them right now. 

“What an asshole,” he says instead, tugging at Magnus’ hand. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“Alexander,” Magnus starts to say, but Alec is already walking. The busiest area of Pandemonium isn’t the place to be having any kind of real conversation. 

When they get to Magnus’ office, however, instead of opening up a portal right away, Magnus leans back against the shut door and says, “Alexander, I’m sorry about what Elijah was saying.”

“Don’t be,” says Alec, and Magnus frowns at him. 

“I’m going to fire him tomorrow.”

“Uh, you shouldn’t.” 

Magnus looks at him like he’s completely lost it, and Alec clarifies, “I mean, you can do whatever you want but if he’s good at his job, then don’t do anything because you think that’s what I expect from you or something. That guy is a complete jackass, but he was looking out for Pandemonium. And for you.”

“No he wasn’t,” says Magnus. “Because none of what he was saying is true.”

“Magnus,” says Alec, disbelieving. “C’mon. You and I both know that what he’s saying is exactly how it is. What possible motive does he have to lie about it when you were standing right there?”

“There’s a difference between someone saying what he thinks and it being fact, Alexander.” Well, obviously. “It’s not as – as precarious as it was, those days with Valentine. Things are changing, little by little. Everyone can feel it.”

“Maybe things have settled down since that win with the Accords last month,” allows Alec. “But – really, Magnus. You and I both know that was small. How many downworlders did it really benefit?”

“All of them,” says Magnus slowly. “Because it removed a legal barrier meant to segregate. Even if it takes years to see changes in practice, it helped everyone. It made things easier, set a precedent for when the downworld gathers to negotiate the entirety of the Accords in a few years.”

When Alec doesn’t say anything, Magnus repeats, “He shouldn’t have been saying those things.”

Right, thinks Alec. Elijah. 

“He probably shouldn’t have been saying it to his boss’s boyfriend when his boss was right there,” concedes Alec. “But I directly asked him for it. I wanted to understand what he was thinking. What kind of attitude people have of me that I have to work to change. And Magnus, I don’t care about what he specifically thinks about me. Most people who come across me generally don’t like me for one reason or another, and I’d rather get this guy’s method of letting me know than an assassination attempt.”

Magnus flinches. “Please don’t joke about that.”

“Sorry.”

Placing a hand on Alec’s cheek, Magnus says, “I just. I remember what you told me, all those months ago. After that disaster with Iris Rouse, do you remember? What you were hearing while you were under her spell?”

Alec stills. 

“This isn’t the same thing at all,” he says, and doesn’t look at Magnus’ face as he pulls away from his touch.

“You said you heard–”

“I know what I heard,” interrupts Alec, face feeling hot. Why had he told all of that to Magnus? Had he really been that shaken by that experience that he was desperate to be told that he was wanted, that he was liked, that he wasn’t completely to be blamed for what had happened? When had Alec gotten to be this weak, so in need of others’ assurance?

And now Magnus is staring at Alec like – like he’s– 

“It’s okay to not like hearing those things Elijah was saying,” says Magnus. “It’s okay to want them to give you the benefit of the doubt. To be frustrated that someone who doesn’t know you can say those things so confidently, as though they know anything about your motivations, about what’s in your heart.”

“Magnus,” says Alec, and he _is_ frustrated but not by what Magnus thinks. He’s frustrated because Magnus is wrong. “It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it’s like.”

“These people don’t know me, you’re right,” he says. “And that’s why I don’t expect them to give me the benefit of the doubt. And I care about what they think, because I want to do right by them, and the only way to know if I did that right is to hear what they say. But that’s how far it goes. It’s not personal. It won’t – it won’t stop me or slow me down. Of course it sucks that they don’t believe I want to help to them because of my colossal fuck-up–”

“Alexander–”

“Let me finish,” says Alec, and he doesn’t expect it to come out as strongly as it does but it startles Magnus into quieting. “I care about what _you_ think about me.” Alec cares far too much about what Magnus thinks about him. “And what Jace and Izzy think. My parents. But mostly – mostly I try to care about what _I_ think of me. Because reality is that I’ll disappoint people and make them angry. I've already done that more times than I want to count with you. And maybe one day I’ll do something that you won’t be able to get past and you’ll realize I’m not the person you thought I was or wanted me to be. But I’m not going to be able to keep going if I let – if I let how much that sucks take over.” 

He pauses to take a deep breath. What Elijah was saying – Alec hears those voices every day. Not just in his head, but in the Institute, in places like Pandemonium. When Alec fails, it’s not a secret. It’s a publicized disgrace. And Alec _can’t_ let it get to him, and so he doesn’t. If he let other people convince him that he’s not worth the space he takes up, that he’s not worth a second and third chance, then he wouldn’t be able to find his way back. 

“It’s just – it’s not an option,” he says at last. “I’ve got things to do and promises to keep and so – so I don’t let it stop me. People like that guy – he’s not the one that’s gonna end up stopping me.”

“Good,” says Magnus, and he sounds choked. He steps toward Alec, draws him into his arms. “Good. You shouldn’t ever let anyone let you think that, let anyone stop you from moving forward.”

Magnus is holding on to him so fiercely that it’s all Alec can do to return the embrace, to lean down and rest his head on Magnus’ shoulder. “Of course.”

“And you haven’t ever disappointed me,” says Magnus. “No more than I must have disappointed you, and that’s just part of – of being alive. I know who you are, Alexander. And I’m never going to want you to be someone different. Do you understand?”

It’s – it’s sweet of Magnus to say this, but Alec knows a platitude when he hears one. Alec has months’ worth of heartache that he will never forget as a reminder of the countless ways he has failed Magnus. Not just the months when they had been apart, which had been the most monumental, but also the months preceding. 

Even the months after they had gotten back together, when Magnus had silently let himself be tormented because he didn’t want Alec to know Alec was falling short, not doing a good enough job at being who Magnus needed him to be. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Alexander?” repeats Magnus. His voice is soft, unfailingly lovely.

“I’m trying to,” replies Alec. And for now, Alec hopes that’s enough.

-

 

If there was any possibility of picking things up where they’d left it off before leaving for Pandemonium, that window has passed by the time they portal back to the loft. Magnus takes one look at the leftover dinner still on the table and a great exhaustion seems to overcome him as he vanishes it with a wave of his hand before Alec can start toward it. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he heads toward the living room and collapses on the couch.

And then Magnus says, from somewhere behind him, “I haven’t been with anyone else.”

Alec freezes.

“In the time we were – apart, I haven’t been with anyone, Alexander,” continues Magnus. “It’s been eating at me, how it sounded, what Elijah was saying before–”

“I told you, I don’t care about what he was saying,” interrupts Alec. This is – this is not the conversation Alec had been expecting to have. It’s not a conversation he wants to have. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Yes, I do,” says Magnus, and he walks over to sit on the coffee table in front of Alec, so close that their knees knock together. “Because I don’t know if you’ve been thinking that there has been, not just because of tonight but – there hasn’t. There hasn’t been anyone else for me since the night you passed out on this couch because you let me coax you with drinks until three in the morning and I got the first look inside that soul I fell in love with.”

“Magnus,” says Alec, closing his eyes. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

Magnus has never needed to prove himself to Alec. Not when they were together, and surely Magnus can’t think that the same wouldn’t be true for when they were apart and not beholden to Alec in any way. When Alec was the reason they had to be apart in the first place. Alec hates thinking back to that time and so he tries not to, but one thing about _then_ that is true is that Alec had enough self-preservation not to indulge in thoughts about what Magnus had been doing. Magnus hadn’t owed him anything, hadn't promised anything to him. 

But Magnus must disagree because his jaw grows tense and he says, “Clearly I do, because you’re not saying you believe me.”

“I believe you,” says Alec, and he means it. “But you don’t have to say all of this. I don’t care about that stuff, all right?”

“You don’t care,” repeats Magnus. “About me being with other people.”

“That’s not–” How is Alec completely messing this up? How is this something they even need to _talk_ about? “That was him talking about before. I’d care if it happened now, but I know you’re not like that so – it just doesn’t matter. I don’t think about it. I know it doesn’t mean anything when you go out and go dancing no matter what your business manager wants me to think.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Magnus looks like Alec has just struck him and Alec can’t even begin to guess as to why. 

“I see,” says Magnus tersely. “So the fact that I hadn’t been with anyone, that I didn’t think about anyone else during that time – it doesn’t matter. That I couldn’t look at anyone without noticing all the ways they were wrong because they weren’t tall enough, or their hair wasn’t dark enough, or their smile wasn’t – fine. Fine.” Magnus takes a deep breath. “All that might not matter to you, Alexander, but it matters to me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize–” Alec reaches out to place a comforting hand on Magnus’ knee. “I haven’t been with anyone else, either.”

It seems ludicrous to even have to say this truth, when Alec has been blind to any man since he’s laid eyes on Magnus. Even his quiet yearning for Jace all those years has never left him so – awestruck, off-kilter. That incomparable, indescribable feeling of being _wanted_ , for however short of a period it lasted. 

Still, if Magnus needs it spoken out loud then it’s only too easy for Alec to comply.

But Magnus says, “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t saying that I wanted the same admission from you. I was saying that it matters to me that it doesn’t matter to you.” Sounding almost disbelieving, he continues, “How can it not matter to you?”

“Am I missing something here?” asks Alec. “I just told you why. Nobody can keep their eyes off of you every time we step outside. The fact that other people want to be with you is something that’s been true since before we got together and it doesn’t matter because I trust you and I know you would never – cheat, or whatever.”

“And what about the other part?” presses Magnus. “About when we were apart? Why doesn’t that matter to you? How – how can it not make a difference with how you look at me? Look at _us?_ ”

“Because we weren’t together,” says Alec slowly. “And you didn’t owe me anything.” What else is there to say? 

“Right,” says Magnus. “Of course.”

Silence falls between the two of them, and it’s – tenuous, unsettling. There is no comfort to be found in the sound of Magnus’ breathing nor the ticking of the grandfather clock that is a constant fixture in the living room. Their argument – if it could be called that, with Magnus asking questions that Alec has bewilderingly answered – still seems unresolved, something uncertain lingering in his chest.

“Magnus,” asks Alec, unsure. “Are we all right?”

This seems to break Magnus out of whatever had kept him trapped inside his head.

“Of course we are,” he says, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to Alec’s mouth. Alec sighs into it, keeps his eyes closed for a few moments longer even after Magnus pulls away. “I’m just tired. I think I – I may just need to turn in.” 

He sounds so weary that Alec doesn’t push, not for tonight. Before, Alec wouldn’t have hesitated. He would have bulldozed onwards, wanting – _needing_ – things to be resolved as soon as possible to ease his own discomfort, his own need to see Magnus having a lesser burden on his shoulders. But Alec is trying to be more cautious, more considerate. He’s trying not to take without caring about what Magnus is willing to give, trying to remember that there are differences in what the two of them want, how the two of them deal with disagreements.

There’ll be time for this later.

“Okay,” says Alec. “You seem pretty wiped out. Maybe we can pick this up tomorrow.” At Magnus’ small nod, Alec squeezes his hands and says, “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Right,” says Magnus again, and from his tone Alec can tell that once more, he didn’t answer the way Magnus wanted him to even though Alec has no idea what he should’ve said instead. 

And somehow, just with that single word, the frustration that has been building inside Alec all night comes rearing forward. 

Alec forgets all about trying to be considerate. About not pushing at their carefully drawn boundaries because there’s no way he can do this. There’s no way to make sure Alec can be the person Magnus deserves and would want to be with if he has no idea what works and what doesn’t. It’s setting himself – setting _them_ – up for failure before they even start and Alec loves Magnus too much to let them fade away without giving everything he has inside of him first.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” demands Alec. “What did I say _now_ that’s got you mad at me again?”

“What?” says Magnus and to his credit, Alec has to admit that he looks genuinely surprised. “What are you talking about? I’m not angry at you.”

“Yes you are. You’re upset with me now, you were upset with me before, when we were talking about my mother being the deputy head at the Institute, and you were upset at me five minutes ago when I didn’t answer the way you wanted me to,” says Alec, and gets more irate when Magnus looks away. “How am I supposed to know what I’m doing wrong if you just stay quiet?”

“Alexander,” says Magnus. “I’m not–”

“I don’t believe you,” says Alec flatly. “Do you think I don’t know how you look like when I – when I hurt you? I know, Magnus, and it feels like shit to know that I did that so – just tell me. Just tell me so I can fix it. If I knew what it was I wouldn’t be asking. I’d already–”

“Fine,” interrupts Magnus, so sudden and sharp that Alec shuts up. “You want to know what I’m thinking?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” says Alec, resisting the urge to throw his arms up in the air. “By the angel, why d’you have to make things so damn–”

“I’m thinking that you don’t always have to leave.”

That has Alec stopping short. “What?” 

“You’re right that I was upset,” says Magnus, and the words sound like they are being pulled through his teeth. “And it’s because at the end of every night you go back to the Institute and I – I get it. I get why, which is why I didn’t want to – to burden you with this. But clearly there are a great many things I don’t succeed at. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“Yeah,” says Alec. Even though this isn’t at all what he expected to hear, it’s what Alec wanted to know: what exactly about him was making Magnus unhappy. “Yeah, because I had no idea that that’s why you were upset when just telling me would’ve solved it.”

“No,” says Magnus. “It just makes everything more complicated. Because now you’re going to stay, and I’m going to think that I forced you into making that decision because you – because you care about me. And you’ll do things you don’t want to because you think it’ll make me happy.”

Alec opens his mouth, ready to argue, before he closes it upon realizing that there’s not a whole lot that Alec can say. Not when Magnus is right.

Well. When Magnus is _mostly_ right.

“It’s not like that,” says Alec, and Magnus looks disbelieving. “If I do something that I think will make you happy, it’s definitely something I _want_ to do.”

Alec wants to go back in time a month and punch himself in the face for not having picked up on this earlier. What’s so different about staying here overnight than just coming here at all? Alec knows where they stand, and if Magnus wants something that will ease the loneliness from both their hearts at nights then it’s the easiest thing in the world for Alec to do so. 

This isn’t moving in. This is spending the night sleeping beside Magnus. Of course Alec wants that.

But then Magnus says, “If it’s something that you wanted to do, then you would have done it already. And it’s not something you have to. You shouldn’t do anything for me if it’s not something you want to. And you’ve made it very clear that you’re not ready to stay here, so – let’s just ignore my own impatience and inability to keep my mouth shut and move on.”

Alec gapes as Magnus starts to walk toward his drink cart.

“You need a drink to have a conversation with me now?”

“You know me well enough by now to know that this is how I deal with difficult situations,” says Magnus, splashing liberal amounts of vodka over rocks of ice. Alec is a difficult situation. “Christ, this is a mess.”

“What mess?” Alec has no idea how they’re having two different conversations right now but he’s done with it. Crossing his arms across his chest, Alec says, “Never mind. I don’t care. I need to borrow some sleeping clothes.”

“No you don’t,” says Magnus knocking back more of his drink than he should, given the contents. “Because you’re not staying here. Go home, Alexander.”

“You’re kicking me out then?” asks Alec, voice sharp. “Right after saying you wanted me to stay?”

Magnus spins around and there is the anger written all over his face which had only previously been in his eyes. 

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t talk like it’s – like it’s that simple. Nothing about this is that easy. Have you ever thought that _I_ don’t want _you_ to–” Magnus cuts himself off when Alec starts toward the bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” says Alec. “If you’re not going to help, I’ll just find myself something to wear and grab a toothbrush from the cabinet.”

Overall, it’s probably the worst night that Alec has ever spent with Magnus. Magnus doesn’t stop glaring at him the entire time Alec brushes his teeth, rifles through Magnus’ dresser to pull out a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt. He texts Izzy to let her know he’s not coming back for the night. He connects his phone to Magnus’ charger before lying down on the soft, familiar bed, flat on his back. His muscles are tense, his senses – alert. There’s no way he’s going to sleep like this, but his mind has been made up and he’s also not going to move.

Alec stares at the ceiling for a good five minutes before Magnus quietly says, “Why are you doing this, Alexander?”

“Because I want to,” says Alec shortly. “Isn’t that what this whole thing’s been about?”

The sound of the soft falls of Magnus’ feet against the floor reach Alec’s ears but Alec keeps his gaze to the ceiling. It’s exactly the same as he remembers it, right down to the pattern on the textured plaster that looks like a vaguely familiar constellation. Cassiopeia, maybe. 

The mattress dips when Magnus’ knees hit the bed and he lies down on his side, on his side of the bed, facing Alec. When Alec finally turns his head to look at him, he sees that Magnus is still fully dressed. His eyes are still lined with neat sweeps of black, lashes still lengthened into perfect tips. 

“Do you?” Magnus’ voice is soft. “Do you want to?”

“Why else would I be here, Magnus?”

“I don’t know,” murmurs Magnus, reaching out to touch Alec’s face. His fingertips are soft against Alec’s cheek. “To prove a point. To convince yourself that you can. To drive me up the wall.”

Alec doesn’t take the opening to make the conversation just that shade lighter. 

“Do you want me to go?” he asks instead.

“You know I don’t. I never want you anywhere away from me.” Magnus trails his hand down Alec’s arm until their fingers are interlocked over Alec’s chest. 

“I never want you away from me either,” says Alec hoarsely. 

If only Magnus knew how much Alec wants to be with him. How thinking he’d lost Magnus hadn’t stopped him from _wanting_ with an ache that permeated all of him, down to the marrow of his bones. How it’s a physical struggle to force himself back to the Institute each time after their kiss goodbye.

He can see the question taking form in Magnus’ gaze, the natural follow-up to Alec’s statement. But the question Magnus asks is different: “Am I making us go faster than you wanted to?”

“Of course not,” says Alec. There is a deeper truth behind his admission, gathering at the opening in his throat. “This is your place, Magnus, not mine.”

Magnus frowns. “What do you mean? My home is always open to you.”

No it’s not, he thinks, but doesn’t quite find the extent of self-sabotage that would be needed to voice it and make it reality. 

Instead he says, “I don’t want to overstep. I think before, I was taking too much liberty. Coming over all the time without so much as a heads up, bringing over shadowhunter business–”

“You weren’t,” interrupts Magnus forcefully. He looks stunned. “Jesus, Alec – you weren’t taking _any_ liberties. I loved how easily you made yourself at home. That you were comfortable. That you wanted to be here all the time.”

All those reasons is exactly why it robbed Alec of something critical to his being, to have this place out of his reach. To have everything he had in the loft reappear in his bedroom at the Institute. All those reasons is exactly why Alec can’t do that again. Perhaps Magnus comes to a similar conclusion, even without a word from Alec, because he doesn’t say anything more. He doesn’t look away, either. Just holds on to Alec and rubs his thumb absently over the back of Alec’s hand.

Eventually, Alec says, “Even with all of that being true, I don’t – it’s still not my place. So just let me know if you want me to stay, okay? My answer’s always going to be yes.”

Sighing, Magnus says, “If that’s how you want to do it.”

“What’s your suggestion?”

“There’s no way to answer that without making it obvious that I’ve got selfish motives here,” says Magnus wryly. “And you seem to not see that yet, so I think I’ll keep it quiet for now.”

“Oh, come on,” says Alec. “Are you trying to fish for compliments? You know you’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

“No fishing for compliments,” says Magnus, but he’s smiling, just a little. It’s wired inside Alec to want to kiss Magnus when he looks like that so he does just that, tastes the remnants of waxy pink from Magnus’ lips. “But perhaps I was fishing for that.”

“That’s the last thing you have to go putting any effort into.”

“Well, I can’t have you thinking you don’t always have me on my toes,” says Magnus. “And just to give you adequate warning – I’m going to be asking you to stay the night every time I see you.”

“Okay,” laughs Alec. 

“And if you ever – if you ever want me to stay with you at the Institute,” says Magnus, slowly, as though the thought has just occurred to him, “I expect you to ask me, too.”

The offer is so unexpected that it takes Alec a few seconds to figure out how to respond. 

“You’d want to stay at the Institute?” clarifies Alec, just to make sure he hasn’t misunderstood. Magnus has never brought up being open to staying there before, and Alec has always understood why. 

“I want to stay with you on any night you want me to,” says Magnus. “And I know that you’re needed there. I’ve missed – I’ve missed going to sleep beside you. Waking up to find you there.”

Alec nods, not sure his vocal chords will work if he tries to speak. The ground is shifting underneath him – even in Alec’s most wildest dreams he wouldn’t have been able to imagine that Magnus – that anyone – would want to be with Alec enough to put themselves through this. But perhaps that’s just Alec’s own blindness. Magnus is just like that, isn’t he? This isn’t the first time he’s done something that no one else would. He’d shown up to Alec’s wedding when he’d barely even known Alec, when the two of them were nothing but a promise, a _what if_. 

It’s an offer so vast and humbling that Alec will feel the echoes of it resonating inside him long after tonight. It’s also why he’s not going to take Magnus up on it: not now, not yet, not until the walls of the Institute are a safe place for Magnus in all the ways that matter. Something that could take years, even decades. It might not even be in Alec’s lifetime at all.

Alec shakily lifts their joined hands to kiss the knuckle of his forefinger. 

“Are we okay?” he asks quietly. “Really, honestly, okay?”

“You tell me, Alexander.”

Alec is the worst person to answer this. Every time he has thought they were going somewhere, that he was doing it right – every time he’s been proven wrong in one way or another.

But if he’s wrong about this, then it’s better to just find this out right now. And so after a brief pause, Alec carefully says, “I think we’re getting there.”

“Me too,” says Magnus, and relief floods through Alec. Maybe Alec has finally learned something, after all. “I think we’re getting there.”

-  
-

 

**SEPTEMBER**

One evening in mid-September, Alec’s shadowhunters discover a nest of four fledgling vampires in Williamsburg. The sire is nowhere to be found. The fledglings are of differing race and socioeconomic backgrounds, the team reports to Alec over a tense and somber call, but they have one troubling trait in common except for being previously mundanes – they’re all children under the age of ten. 

There’s no protocol for such an event. Alec heads over to the site himself after sending Raphael a brief fire message: _Patrol team found fledglings in Brooklyn, at Broadway and Union. Used to be mundane kids. Meet me there. Be discreet with who you bring – this is gonna get ugly real fast._

Alec gives the patrol team instruction to secure the building until he gets there without approaching the fledglings. Then he goes to get Jace, because Alec knows he’ll have to dismiss the team before Raphael gets there and Alec has made it part of their procedure that a shadowhunter never goes out on their own, no matter their rank or skill.

It’s almost midnight so Alec’s cautious in his approach, aware that Clary might be with him. He’s surprised to find that the door to Jace’s room has been left ajar, and even from a few feet away he can hear the tail end of a conversation between him and Clary.

“–m sorry I keep asking, I just want to make sure,” Jace is saying, voice low. “I’d rather that you tell me so I can do something about it instead of just – instead of finding out later and hating myself because–”

“Jace, no,” says Clary, and she sounds upset. “I promise that I’m so, so h–”

Alec realizes that he shouldn’t be hearing this, a conversation so obviously private. He almost wants to turn around, find someone else, but Izzy and his mother are the only other people Alec would consider and they’re both off in Alicante. Besides, Jace and Clary are shadowhunters – they all know that some things must be put on hold to deal with an immediate threat. 

Instead Alec makes his last remaining steps heavier so Jace and Clary have warning of his approach. It must work because by the time he reaches the door and firmly knocks, they’ve stopped talking. 

“It’s Alec,” he calls out.

“What’s up?” replies Jace, and Alec takes that as permission to step inside. When he does, he sees that one of Jace’s hands are still between both of Clary’s, even as the two of them meet his gaze.

“Need you geared up for a mission,” says Alec, apologetically. “Time sensitive, we have to be in Williamsburg in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh,” says Jace, and the soft slouch he had been sitting in – a mirror reflection of Clary’s – straightens into something more alert. A soldier’s rest. “Do I get a team?”

“You get one other guy and you’re looking at him,” says Alec, and Jace’s eyes widen. “I’ll brief you on the way.”

Clary looks between the two of them, frowning. “You sure you don’t need back up?”

It’s a testament to how far they’ve come that Alec doesn’t even feel annoyed at the question.

“The less people in the know right now, the better,” says Alec. “Jace, you in?”

“Yeah,” says Jace. He gives his head a little shake, as though to clear it and squeezes Clary’s hands before letting go. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll meet you in the control center in five.”

This kind of assignment doesn’t need any weaponry but given that Raphael probably has nothing to do with this, Alec doesn’t want to take any chances being unarmed against a vampire who would be willing to turn children should they show up. Alec takes his seraph blade and swings his quiver across his shoulder.

As promised, Jace is ready to go in five minutes. Alec gives him the same shortened rundown as he gave Raphael in the fire message. Jace looks sick, but he understands the plan: get there, relieve the shadowhunters present, figure out how to find the sire, and figure out how to stop the backlash. 

“Race to the finish line?” says Jace, his voice light even as the corners of his eyes are pinched. He activates his speed rune and jets off before Alec can even process the challenge. 

Alec hurries for stele, scowling because of the advantage Jace’s angel blood will always give him an edge over Alec in these stupid, petty competitions that nonetheless bruises Alec’s pride to lose. Jace beats him with the head start. Alec punches him hard on the shoulder in retaliation when they arrive in Williamsburg, just outside the building that the patrol squad is waiting at. 

Because Jace is an asshole, he just smirks and says, “Don’t be such a sore loser, Alec. All that time lazing around behind that desk’s making you soft. When was the last time you did some stamina training?”

“You should be worried about the next time I’m gonna do some ass-kicking,” says Alec, and Jace barks out a laugh. 

“Whatever you say, buddy.”

Alec loses the annoyance to fire something back at Jace as he stares up at the non-descript commercial building in front of them. There are children in there, he thinks, unable to process what it means. Jace quiets as well, and although it’s a warm and balmy night, Alec sees him rubbing at his arms as if to stave off the cold.

The patrol team meets them outside, and Alec gets an update before he dismisses them back to their regular duties. “No changes from the report earlier,” reports the team lead. There’s something unsettled about her eyes. “The sire’s still missing, and the fledglings all have the signs of being newly turned. They’ve been – fed, and they don’t seem to want to move from the nest.”

It takes less than two minutes for a portal to open up in the adjacent alley. Raphael comes out first, face impassive but with murder in his eyes – and just steps behind him is Magnus, who closes the portal with a quiet wave of his hand. He looks uncharacteristically subdued, despite the vivid colours he’s adorned in, and doesn’t quite manage a smile as he mouths, ‘hello,’ to Alec. 

“Great, the whole gang’s here,” bites out Raphael. “Let’s go.”

-

 

Everyone is quiet, apprehensive during the walk inside. Alec tries, but there’s no real way to prepare for the sight of four vampire children playing with each other in a derelict, abandoned office building. His grip tightens on the strap of his quiver as multiple diverging instincts flare up inside him. The first is absolute horror and revulsion: the four of them are still covered in their grave dirt, their bloody fangs spilling out of their mouths. The next is practical: the need to clean them up and gather them in his arms and give them proper clothes and a proper bed, not this – this filthy mess of sheets, not this mattress that belongs in the dumpster and far, far away from a child’s delicate body. 

And then finally there’s a terrible, overwhelming sorrow as it strikes him that this is eternity for these kids: never growing physically, never growing mentally. Forever vulnerable in a way that can’t be fixed even with the ability to kill any threat that comes their way.

Alec doesn’t realize that he’s already stepping toward them until he feels a gentle touch to his elbow to stop him. He startles, and when he looks to his left he finds Magnus looking at him. Magnus gives a small shake of his head.

“Don’t go near them, Alexander,” he says softly. “Angel blood is notoriously tempting even for the longest lived vampires, and these are just newly born.”

Right, thinks Alec, swallowing back against his dry throat. He nods, looks to verify that Jace has heard. If angel blood’s the issue, then Jace is most definitely the more appealing target.

Raphael approaches the children easily, seemingly without worry or caution. They flock toward him, perhaps recognizing him as one of their own, and Alec hears Raphael softly, carefully say, “Hello, _mis pequeños valientes._ I’m Raphael Santiago. What are your names?”

Over the next few minutes of Raphael’s gentle questioning – _my little brave ones_ , Raphael had called them, how heartbreakingly fitting – Alec learns the following: that they’d all woken up just hours ago, that they were all given blood straight from the throat of a mundane, and they were all told to stay here until their sire returned to take them home. 

Alec hits his breaking point when Ryan, the small black boy with big, sweet eyes says, “Can we go back yet? I miss Mama and Papa.”

One of the girls by Raphael must pick up on Alec’s sudden spike of his heart rate because her gaze immediately, abruptly lands on Alec. Alec barely notices.

“Not yet, my little friend,” says Raphael, and the helplessness that consumes Alec is so strong that he grabs on to Magnus’ hand without warning, squeezes his ringed fingers so tight that they surely, surely must break. 

But Magnus doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t try to withdraw from Alec’s crushing grip until Raphael calls out, still gentle, “Magnus, get over here.”

When Alec makes no move to let go, Magnus murmurs, “Alexander.” He lifts their joined hands until they’re resting on his chest, covers them both with his free one. “Alexander, I have to–”

“Sorry,” says Alec, and even then it takes him another second to find the strength to uncurl his fingers. His face feels flushed with embarrassment, frustration at his irrational reaction. “I’m sorry. Go. I – sorry.”

Alec shuts his mouth, takes a step back as though the distance will mean that Magnus has taken a step forward, instead. Jace is looking at him with a carefully neutral expression and Alec ignores him. Instead, Alec stands at attention when Raphael joins them, leaving the children with Magnus across the hall.

“Magnus and I are going to take the children somewhere safe,” says Raphael. “Somewhere with more like them, where they’ll be taken care of until they can make decisions on their own.”

“We’ll track down the sire,” says Alec, and Raphael nods. Temporarily ignoring the bitterness at the back of his throat, Alec continues, “And I think we should loop Luke in. Get his help in figuring out what–” _to tell their families,_ Alec can’t say, mindful of the keen hearing of the children. “On what the official story is,” he settles with.

Raphael nods and almost immediately after he does so, Alec feels a gentle wave of blue magic pass over the room. 

“That’ll be Magnus casting a silencing spell,” says Raphael. Turning to Alec, he gravely says, “I have a request.” 

Frowning, Alec asks, “What is it?”

“I ask that you don’t arrest the sire when you find him,” says Raphael, “and leave it to me to take care of.”

Alec is already giving Raphael more leeway than anyone else would out of courtesy and respect. There’s no easy way to sweep this under the rug, not when four other shadowhunters outside of Jace and Alec have seen the nest and know the details of the predicament. 

Turning mundanes into vampires without a Writ of Transmutation is a violation of the Accords, and turning a child, on principle, is an even more unforgivable offense. Alec has already built up a depository of secrets that could get him de-runed and exiled – for letting the Inquisitor carry on an unsanctioned execution on Valentine, for not turning in Luke for trying to do the same, for confirming the Clave’s loss of the Soul Sword to the downworlders of New York – and the truth of it is that Alec doesn’t even want to hide what happened. 

Alec _wants_ the Clave’s unforgiving justice to come down on the man that did this. 

He has no problem telling this to Raphael. “And why would I do that?”

“Lightwood,” is Raphael’s response, and despite Alec’s harsh delivery something about his unimpressed expression seems almost – sympathetic. “What exactly do you think will happen if you let that man be questioned by the Clave?”

“He’ll be sentenced to death,” says Alec. It’s exactly what he would deserve.

“Yes,” says Raphael. “But not before the existence of these children are known to them. And depending on who he is, he may know about the existence of the colony Magnus will be portalling them to as well.”

The realization hits Alec all at once.

“And you think that the Clave will interfere with the kids,” he says, feeling the ire drain out of him. 

“I don’t _think_ , I know.”

“I see,” says Alec because when put that way, there’s no argument that he’s right. Raphael’s right. He looks at the little girl beside Magnus, the one that’s still staring curiously at Alec, and it’s sickening how easily Alec can imagine what will happen to her if shadowhunters get involved. There’s no way the Clave finds out about a safe haven for vampires who were turned as children – who will forever have a child’s control of impulse, a child’s lack of empathy, and a monster’s lust for blood – and leave them to govern themselves in peace, as they must have been doing for the last ten, twenty, a hundred years. For however long they’ve been living in secret. 

Given Alec’s history, letting him know about the existence of this place was a calculated risk by Raphael, Alec realizes. A bold sign of trust. Not a test, because Raphael wouldn’t gamble with something like this. With the lives of the most vulnerable, most dangerous of his people. Trust, because something Alec had done during the course of their acquaintanceship convinced Raphael that Alec wouldn’t reveal this secret to the Clave. Alec will be going on trial for these violations one of these days, but he understands why it needs to be done. 

At least he thinks he does. He had thought the same in other occasions and that instinct turned out to be wrong. Alec lived with the consequences of those decisions – is still living them, in some cases – and right now, based on what he understands to the best of his judgment – this is the right thing to do.

“Do you understand why I can’t have him be turned in?” asks Raphael.

“Yes,” says Alec. When having it explained like that, Alec would have to be a fool to not understand. “Yes. We understand each other.”

“Good,” says Raphael, and the line of his shoulders relaxes. “I won’t forget this, Lightwood. And I can give you _my_ word that the sire will be punished with the degree of severity this crime deserves.”

“Good,” says Alec, repeating Raphael’s response back to him. 

Magnus is opening up the portal.

To Alec, Jace asks, “So are we gonna go hunt a crazy vampire, or what?”

They go and hunt a crazy vampire.

-

 

Parabatai tracking isn’t nearly as strong as a warlock’s ability, but Alec and Jace make do and find their target in Central Park. The harder part is to actually subdue the sire of the four vampire fledglings, but Alec’s anger gives him an unparalleled clarity and focus. Alec doesn’t kill him because that’s not the plan, but he does break the branches of a nearby tree to stake the man to the ground in four different places. 

“I’m going to – to make you pay for this,” the vampire coughs, blood trickling out of his mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up,” says Jace, scowling. “This isn’t even going to kill you.”

“You think your little Institute prison is good enough to lock me in?”

“Ha,” says Jace. “You think you’re going to–”

“Jace,” interrupts Alec. He’s positioned himself on a branch of a sturdy oak, keeping watch for any unexpected interruptions. “Don’t engage with him.” 

It’s been two hours since they split paths. Alec checks his phone, opening the last message sent to Raphael which holds the coordinates of where they are waiting with the prisoner. Thirty more minutes, thinks Alec. And then they default back to the original plan. 

Magnus and Raphael end up stepping out of a portal exactly twelve minutes later. 

“Sorry for the delay,” says Raphael blandly. “There were some unforeseen difficulties with one of the children. But everything has been taken care of now. Is this our perpetrator?”

“Yeah,” says Alec, walking over to the duo. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Santiago?” says the vampire, craning his head from where he’s pinned to the grass. “The Clave is handing me over to _Raphael Santiago?_ ”

“Can someone please shut this guy up?” asks Jace and with a snap of his fingers, Magnus presumably does just that.

“That they are,” replies Raphael pleasantly. “I’ll take over from here.” He turns to Magnus and says, “My friend, can I ask you to open one more doorway for me, to the basement of the DuMort?”

“I’ll even throw in a binding spell, free of charge,” says Magnus, and as he says this, a sheet of electric blue gently lands on the bound vampire. “And you can get those makeshift stakes out.”

“Ah yes. I see our shadowhunters got a little carried away.” He doesn’t sound too torn up about it though as he starts to pull at the branches. “Quite vicious, as Lightwood’s arrows with the binding rune would have achieved the same outcome with less pain involved for our wayward friend.”

Alec crosses his arms across his chest and only says, “Must not have occurred to me. Are you two good to take over?”

“Yes,” says Raphael. “Thank you for your assistance. I’ll be in touch once the matter has been resolved.”

By which point Alec has to figure out what story they’re going to have to sell to the families of these missing children, figure out if they should be expecting any bodies drained of blood to turn up in a dumpster, the details of the false report he’s going to file for the official records, and what to do about the shadowhunters on patrol who saw the young vampires and most definitely are expecting a certain kind of fallout.

Alec starts to feel a headache form just thinking about it. 

“All right,” he says. He meets Magnus’ gaze, which is worried as he stares at Alec, and in response Alec gives Magnus a brief, reassuring smile. “We’ll head back. No one talks about this to anyone outside of us until this guy’s dealt with, all right?”

“Heard loud and clear, Alexander,” says Magnus before the four of them separate. 

-

 

“By the angel,” says Jace, once they’re back at the Institute and putting away their weapons. “You don’t fuck around when it comes to these super sensitive missions, huh.”

“They’re super sensitive for a reason.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay handling the details?” asks Jace, watching Alec with an unerringly shrewd gaze.

“Yeah,” says Alec. “Don’t worry about that part. You were following orders, coming with me. Anything happens with Raphael or the Clave, I’ll deal with it.”

Jace rolls his eyes. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it, Alec. Where you go, I go. Even if it means going down.” Clapping Alec’s shoulder, he adds, “And you better let me know if you need me to use the weight of the Herondale name for anything.”

“You mean _ab_ use the weight of the Herondale name,” says Alec dryly.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” says Jace lightly, but his face is serious. “This is – you and I both know this has the potential to get real bad, Alec. Not just for us. And if I can use it to look after my family, to do the right thing – then I will, and I won’t blink twice. I know I did before, but – I know better now. I’m in this with you until the end, however messed up it gets.”

“Thanks, but – the Inquisitor is your family, too,” says Alec heavily. “And don’t deny it, I remember how happy you were to find out you had – relatives, an ancestry, a whole familial history. It’s okay if you don’t want to–”

“Shut the hell up,” interrupts Jace. “Yeah, Imogen is my blood. And even though I’ve only known her for months, I do – just knowing she exists, I feel a connection. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. But she’s not my family the way the Lightwoods are. Not the way you are.” Jace’s eyes are blazing with the ferocity of his commitment to this belief. “You get me?”

“Yeah,” says Alec, voice cracking. He hopes Jace feels the through the parabatai bond the depth of the gratitude coursing through Alec right now. “I get it. And – you too, Jace, all right? I won’t blink twice.”

Jace nods. When he starts to head out of the armoury, however, Alec remembers that there’s something he wanted to talk to Jace about. On what Alec had overheard when he had gone to retrieve Jace for the mission.

Ever since Jace and Clary got together back in February, there’s been a sense of bone-deep contentment filling up the parabatai bond. It’s often been a source of comfort for Alec, the relief that comes from knowing – as fact, without a shadow of a doubt – that Jace is happy. There are other things too, of course, but those are all temporary compared to the solid bedrock of serenity underneath. During some of the worst, loneliest nights after Valentine when Alec had felt scorched hollow, Alec had wrapped himself up in the sweetness of it, let it fill up the empty pockets and edge away the exhaustion and grief.

Alec knows that it’s not just because of Clary, that Jace has been fighting a battle with and within himself for a long, long time. And no matter Alec’s personal feelings on Clary – who has, in fact, become someone Alec is reluctantly fond of – it would be disingenuous to say that she isn’t a substantial part of the happiness in Jace’s life right now. Alec would do a lot more than have an awkward conversation to help Jace preserve that, if that’s what Jace needs from him. 

“Hey,” he says, touching Jace’s elbow right before he steps out. “Do you have a second to talk about something else?”

“Sure,” says Jace, stopping in his path. “What’s up?”

There’s no real way to ease into it. “Is everything okay between you and Clary?”

“Yeah?” Jace looks confused, but he seems to mean his answer. “That’s what you want to talk about?”

Alec nods. “It’s just that – when I was coming by to get you earlier, I overheard some stuff and it seemed like. I don’t know.”

“Oh,” says Jace, and a strange look overtakes his face. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“No,” says Alec immediately. “Well, a little. I didn’t mean to, and the second I realized – I stopped. I didn’t hear anything except that you’d rather that Clary tell you something than not, which could be anything.”

“Oh,” repeats Jace, and this time there’s no mistaking the expression on his face as anything other than disappointment.

Frowning, Alec asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” says Jace, and he looks tired. He runs a hand through his hair, the way he does when he’s trying to gather his thoughts, buy himself some time. “I just. I guess that I wish you did. I wish you heard the rest of that conversation.”

“What?” says Alec, and he can feel his frown grow deeper. “Why?”

“Because I was asking Clary if she was happy,” says Jace abruptly. “I love that girl, Alec. It would kill me if she wasn’t and didn’t tell me, if I went on living my life thinking everything was fine when she was the furthest thing from it. I ask her if she’s happy almost every day just to make sure and I can see that she’s getting frustrated but – I can’t stop, Alec. I can’t.”

There’s a moment after Jace stops speaking that is a little too long to be natural, comfortable. Alec lets it linger: he would rather feel off-kilter than say the wrong thing when Jace is opening himself up like this. 

Finally, Alec asks, “Is something making you think that she’s not?”

“Yes,” says Jace bluntly. “You.”

That – that is not what Alec had been expecting.

“What?” Alec feels like this is his most used word in this conversation. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Has he been acting coldly toward Clary without realizing it? Has that been affecting her relationship with Jace? “Was I an asshole to her or something?”

“No,” says Jace. “Well, maybe you were, but I don’t think she cares about that.”

“Then what–”

“Because you’re not happy, Alec,” says Jace, and Alec can feel himself stiffen. Jace looks uncomfortable, maybe even troubled, but he doesn’t look away from Alec. “You haven’t been for a long time and the only reason I can tell it is because we’re parabatai. Looking at you from the outside – I wouldn’t be able to. I’d have no idea, man, and that freaks me out. It’s why I can’t just believe it when Clary tells me everything’s fine because the second I look at you–”

“What are you talking about?” asks Alec, and his voice sounds defensive even to his own ears. “What’s this got to do with me?”

“I tried giving you openings to talk,” says Jace, sounding frustrated. “And every time you brush it off, go about your day like everything’s fine and I can’t understand how you can fake it like – and don’t pull some bullshit and try to tell me you’re fine,” adds Jace loudly when Alec gears up to argue, to insist that Jace has no idea what he’s saying. “You haven’t been. I know what the bond feels like when you’re happy, Alec. And I haven’t felt that in a long time. Not since you and Magnus broke up and that was almost a year ago.”

“I’m fine,” says Alec, because he is. “Anyway, we’re not talking about–”

“Don’t,” says Jace. “Don’t shut me out, Alec.”

Alec doesn’t know what’s happening. Doesn’t know how this conversation ended up where it has when just a minute ago it was something completely different. Alec is supposed to be asking after Jace, after Clary, make sure that they’re doing okay. How is it that instead they’re talking about Alec, with Jace lobbing ridiculous accusations?

Finally, Alec goes, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything to me,” responds Jace. “You don’t have to say anything to anyone but whatever it is that’s making you like this... you have to do something about it, Alec. I’m here if you want to talk it out or fight it out or whatever but – you gotta do something. Or you gotta tell me what to do because I can’t just sit around like this.” 

“There’s nothing to do,” says Alec, and he can feel his defensiveness slowly give way to something else. “Because there’s nothing wrong. And I just wanted to see if everything was fine with you and Clary and it sounds like it is, so–”

“By the angel,” says Jace, disbelieving. “Are you listening to yourself? I’m your _parabatai,_ you fucking moron. You think I don’t know what it’s like when you’re happy? You think I don’t know what it’s like when you’re depressed, like I could ever forget that you’d jumped off a goddamn building because you wanted to die?”

“Back off, Jace,” warns Alec. His heart is racing, and Alec feels alert as he would if he was under attack. Perhaps more so than he would have if Magnus hadn’t brought up the same incident just a few weeks ago.

He doesn’t understand why Jace is saying this, why Jace is throwing what happened in Alec’s face like Alec wasn’t under a spell that had taken over his mind and made him say and do and relive things that he never would’ve otherwise. 

“Why should I?” demands Jace, and this brazen ornery makes Alec want to punch his face in. “You didn’t back off when I was losing it after setting off the Sword and committing mass murder."

“That’s not the same thing,” bites out Alec. The sorrow and heartache Jace was drowning in back then still makes Alec’s own heart twist to think about it. “And you were going through something and it wasn’t your fault and obviously I wasn’t going to–”

“This is _exactly_ the s–”

“No it’s not!” shouts Alec, and by the angel, how did Jace Herondale make it to twenty-five when he’s such a fucking idiot? “I have no idea what the hell is going through your head but there’s _nothing_ wrong with me – you’re alive, Izzy’s healthy, I’m back together with Magnus, we’re helping make real change with the Clave, I’m the head of the Institute and on better terms with Mom and Dad than I’ve been since I was ten years old – why wouldn’t I be happy? Why wouldn’t I be happy, Jace?”

Jace has no idea what he’s talking about, thinks Alec viciously, and that was just a shortlist of all the reasons why. Alec’s life is perfect. He has everything he’s ever wanted, even the things he doesn’t deserve. Even the things he didn’t earn. All the things he puts at risk every day with the decisions he makes, good and bad. Alec has everything.

Except Jace is staring at Alec as though Alec has just said he has nothing but an endless collection of his failures.

“You tell me,” says Jace, voice quiet. “You tell me why, Alec.”

“Stop worrying about something that’s not real, Jace,” says Alec. He doesn’t know how many times he has to say this. “There’s nothing to tell.”

-

 

Alec stays up working past dawn. It’s only when the first rays of the sun start to filter through his office’s windows that he takes a minute to pause. There is still a strange restlessness in his bones, a sharpness in his mind that’s uncommon after such a long night. Usually Alec has to activate wakefulness and stamina at least once when he nears the twenty-four hour mark, but today he thinks he can go for another six, eight hours.

Jace’s accusations from earlier linger uncomfortably at the back of his mind, and Alec feels anger spark within him whenever he catches them coming to the forefront. What complete bullshit, he thinks, ignoring the tightness in his chest. Leave it to Jace to cause unnecessary waves, having never learned to leave well-enough alone. 

Alec startles when his phone beeps to alert him of a new message. It’s from Magnus: _Come by if you’re up for breakfast!! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ with an attached picture of four baking trays worth of muffins. 

Alec feels himself start to smile even before the second message arrives a moment later, feeling lighter than he has all night: 

_...Needless to say I couldn’t sleep. :’(_

_On my way,_ Alec types back, already getting to his feet. _Better make another one for yourself though since the ones in the picture have my name all over it._

After an overnight shift like this one, he doesn’t have to be back at the Institute until the afternoon. If the world seems a little bit skewed right now, where Alec is doubtful of what he sees and who he is, then – well, no one is better at making the world a brighter, clearer place for Alec than Magnus is. And if Alec can be of any help as well, to help ease whatever burden had Magnus awake and tearing up his kitchen, then all the better.

Twenty minutes later, Alec arrives at Magnus’ loft and stares at the _MAGNUS BANE_ stamped onto every single one of the muffins in sight.

“Wow,” says Alec. “I’m genuinely shocked and impressed right now.”

“That’s always good,” says Magnus, leaning in to kiss Alec’s mouth. “With which part, exactly?”

“At how far you’ll go to make a point.”

Magnus preens, touching the cuff of his ear. He is particularly radiant under the early morning sun, last night’s eyeliner having settled into something softer. He is still in the same aqua blue shirt and slim black pants he was in when Alec saw him last, only now his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. Just from looking at him, no one would be able to guess that he has spent the last four to five hours working off his nervous energy in the kitchen. 

“Let’s not pretend that this is a surprise.” 

“It’s not,” confirms Alec, and steals the sound of Magnus’ laugh with another kiss. “And still somehow I can never expect how exactly it’s going to manifest each time.”

“Good thing I like you and am more than happy to share,” says Magnus, hustling Alec over to one of the tall chairs surrounding the breakfast bar in the kitchen. There’s fruits and eggs and hashed potatoes waiting as well. It’s a marvel, just how efficient and just so damn _good_ Magnus is at everything, magic or no magic. 

Magnus takes the seat beside him, a mug of tea between both hands. “Now eat, and tell me how great everything tastes.”

“The real reason you brought me over here,” says Alec dryly, but at the sight of so much food in front of him he realizes that he’s ravenous, having not eaten anything since dinner the night before – perfectly normal, if he had slept in between. Biting unceremoniously into a banana nut muffin, magically kept warm and butter soft, Alec gives Magnus a thumbs up.

“Despite me already having had three of these,” says Magnus, smiling, “it’s good to hear that I’ve still got it.”

“You’re always gonna have it,” says Alec absently, starting on his second. A chocolate chip one, this time. Alec figures that if he’s going to go down this road, he might as well commit. “What had you stressed out, though? That you started with your baking?” 

The ease in Magnus’ gaze as he watches Alec eat fades, even though the warmth still stays in place. 

“Ah,” says Alec, recognizing the look on Magnus’ face. “Too direct?”

Shaking his head, Magnus says, “No, I just – I didn’t think you knew I got like this, sometimes. It hasn’t happened in a while. Certainly not since I met you.”

“You told me once, when we were in Paris,” says Alec. Affecting Magnus’ voice, he says, “Alexander, here, bite into this – this baguette is like a dream. Almost as divine as my midnight concoctions when I’m baking away my troubles.”

“I don’t talk like that,” says Magnus, sounding affronted. The effect is reduced, however, by his beaming face. “Though I do remember that day. That was right before we bought that horribly overpriced lock to put on _le Pont des Arts_.”

“And then realizing that the government banned it?” Alec can’t help but grin. “Yeah, that was the right decision by them.” And then gently, before they get carried away, he says, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Sighing, Magnus says, “It’s really nothing. It’s just that – there really is another reason I called you here. Not just to watch you devour breakfast for a family of five.”

“What is it?” asks Alec, eyes curiously following Magnus’ journey to the bookshelf in the living room. 

“It’s your birthday in a few days,” says Magnus, pulling a small bag from the top shelf before coming back to join Alec in the kitchen. “I wanted to give this to you before the party.”

“Uh,” says Alec, taking the bag Magnus holds out to him. He had completely forgotten that it was his birthday. “There’s a party?”

“Of course there’s a party,” says Magnus. “Not every day Alexander Lightwood turns twenty-six, and I have a reputation to uphold with you as a seven-star boyfriend. But that’s just regular course. It’s this–” he taps at Alec’s palm, “–that I want you to look at.”

Alec takes in the unnatural casualness of Magnus’ voice, frowning down at the soft, black bag he is holding. He opens it up, and his breath catches in his throat as he pulls from its depths familiar bracelet of small, mahogany spheres. 

“Oh,” he says, hearing the phantom echo of Magnus’ words ringing in his ears: _For you, it’s a gift._ The charm Magnus had made for him so many months ago, now. A protective spell bound to Alec’s energy signature. 

Alec hasn’t thought back to that day in a long, long time. Some bruises are better left alone to heal, and even though he is an exceptionally poor student in living up to that ideal – especially when it comes to Magnus and all the ways Alec hasn’t quite managed to do right by him – that one encounter he has been diligent about letting lie. It hadn’t been the worst of days in Alec’s short life, but it had been – it had been something. 

“It’s – I’ve made some upgrades in the last few months,” Magnus is explaining. “Mostly structural, so the spell will last longer. It will still let you know whenever there’s danger coming by growing hot, but each of the ten beads has a separate instance of the spell. It’s a sequence, to be activated whenever the magic wears out of the one. It should last ten times as long as the first version.” In a tone so light that it must be conscious, Magnus finishes, “Are you going to put it on?”

Earlier, Jace had said, _You’re not happy,_ and it’s with grief crawling up his lungs and throat and threatening to push out of his eyes that Alec is forced to think about why it might be so. Not that he ever lets himself forget, but that manageable, dulled ache of loss and regret that has been his constant companion for months is suddenly a meticulously sharpened blade lodged inside of him as he remembers why he couldn’t take this from Magnus the first time around. 

But everything’s different now, Alec reminds himself. Magnus is his boyfriend. There’s no reason he shouldn’t accept this beautiful token of affection from Magnus, be grateful for it and be gracious about it. 

Alec blinks rapidly, trying to pull the loose ends of his thoughts back into focus. 

“Yeah, I–” Alec has to clear his throat, choked up with something he can’t quite name. He slips the bracelet on, rolls it over his gathered fingers until it rests on his left wrist. Magnus lets out a long, deep breath. “Thank you, Magnus. I really – thank you, for making this. I’ll always wear it.” 

“This was nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure it was something, otherwise you’d be selling these wholesale and running out of stock,” points out Alec. He glances down at his wrist, traces the cool wooden spheres with the tip of a finger. Alec has never let himself forget and now there is no risk of it. All he has to do is look down at his hands. “It must have been complicated,” he says. “And used up a lot of your magic.”

There is a brief silence, which Alec takes as confirmation. Of course Magnus would try and pretend otherwise. As though Alec has forgotten their conversation outside the Cabinet meeting room, Magnus trying to explain why Alec should pay pennies for something a seelie would owe–

And then Magnus is taking Alec’s hand in between his own. Alec is startled into looking up at Magnus. 

Magnus, with his imploring gaze and tempting mouth and the golden rays of the sun leaving shadows of his eyelashes on the crest of his cheeks. Alec can’t look away from him. Ever since he gave himself the permission to look at Magnus, to _see_ the man in everything he is, Alec has never wanted to look anywhere else. 

“This was nothing,” repeats Magnus. “I would run the well of magic inside of me dry if it meant you would be safe.”

“You shouldn’t,” says Alec, the weight of the bracelet an anchor on his wrist and his heart alike. Magnus shouldn’t use up his magic on someone so fleeting when he has an eternity left to live through.

“Of course I should,” says Magnus, and his voice is gentle but the words don’t reach Alec as a caress so much as it does a knockout punch. “Of course I would.”

Magnus must have been thinking days and weeks and years ahead when he made this protection spell for Alec, he thinks, gone through iteration after iteration of all the things that could possibly go wrong, things that he would want Alec protected from. Alec remembers lying in bed beside Magnus after Jace had set off the Sword, hand on Magnus’ chest so he could feel those drums of his beating heart and knowing that there were no lengths Alec wouldn’t go to keep him alive. Coming to the realization that Valentine had two of the three Instruments and seeing that same unacceptable future laid out in front of him and doing what he could to stop it. 

He remembers every kiss from Magnus in the last few months feeling like a burst of hope and the closing in of a curse. The countless ways that it could all fall apart playing out before his mind’s eye, the infinite paths somehow looping back and converging into the same, unavoidable end: _You’re not happy, Alec._

“I stay up at night imagining a life where you never opened your eyes that day,” says Magnus. “How can I live with myself if I don’t do what I can to stop that from happening again?”

It’s not a question Alec knows how to answer. But maybe, right now, he doesn’t have to. Thinking ahead hasn’t done anything for Alec. He’s no good at it – he doesn’t have to look forward to prove that, only look back at all the decisions he has already made. Set in stone, unchangeable. The only time Alec has been able to make a real and lasting change in his life for the better had been when he hadn’t looked ahead at all, and only looked at Magnus instead. 

Magnus in his black suit, standing in the aisle of Alec’s wedding hall with that streak of magenta in his hair. Daring Alec to take what he wants, for the first time in his life.

Alec is – he’s so tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of second guessing his instincts. Tired of having this – this unbearable weight attached to a gift so sweet from Magnus. It shouldn’t be like this. Being with Magnus, at this moment – it shouldn’t be like this. 

There’s infinite time for that later and for the second time in his life, Alec doesn’t want to plan more than a moment ahead. 

No more than a single second, the span of time needed to surrender to the aching want in his heart and lean in to drag Magnus into a desperate, searing kiss.

Magnus’ lips part in surprise, his gasp caught between their mouths. “Alexander–”

“I love you,” says Alec, and almost instantly the weight in his chest is nothing more than a wisp of smoke, something Alec can breathe out of him. “God, Magnus. I love you.” 

The noise that escapes Magnus’ throat is once again lost between them.

“Alexander, what–” and that’s the only warning Alec gets before Magnus is breaking away, just far enough so he can look at Alec, blinking rapidly. “Say that again.”

“Say what?” murmurs Alec, enraptured by the sight of Magnus’ slick, parted mouth. _Of course I should_. Alec doesn’t know when he stood up, only knows that it had been the right decision to make because he’s standing tall over a dazed looking Magnus and grasping his shoulders before bending down to kiss him again, reaching deeper into the welcoming heat of his mouth. Nothing seems as important as touching Magnus, right now. To stop himself from thinking and just let the desire and need consuming him be his guide in getting as close to Magnus as he possibly can. 

Magnus’ fingers clench tightly into the front of Alec shirt. The movement tugs at Alec’s collar, has the fabric dig roughly into the back of his neck and the sting of it is such a sharp contrast from the softness of Magnus’ lips that it draws out an involuntary moan from Alec, one he doesn’t give any heed to. 

But Magnus does, the sound resulting in Alec getting pulled closer, Magnus’ legs widening and locking behind Alec’s knees. It’s all Alec can do not to tumble into him. Not moving away from him, Magnus says, “Say it.”

“I love you.” It’s the only thing Alec can say. 

Magnus’ entire body shudders, eyes squeezing shut. 

“I love you,” Alec says again. He can’t stop. He’s waited months and months, trying not to push, trying to be someone better than who he was, going against the very grain of who he is. But when Alec isn’t thinking and just doing, everything is so simple: Alec loves him. He’s going to love Magnus for as long as he’ll live. And wherever Alec ends up after that – he’s going to love Magnus from there, too. 

Even during the time they were apart, this is something that Alec has long known to be true. That he will always love Magnus, in whatever ‘love’ means, in whatever ‘always’ means. So what if this love isn’t as sweet as Alec had once thought it would be? So what if there’s an ache to it, an uncertainty? There isn’t a single person that Alec loves who hasn’t broken his heart in some way – whose heart Alec hasn’t broken first with his arrogance, his carelessness, his chronic ability to always fall short – and there is no doubt that he loves them fiercely, with every breath in his body. Heartbreak and sacrifice are a part of love and there’s no reason it should be different with Magnus. It somehow makes it even more real for Alec – that yes, this terrible longing that grips him from time to time without any cause is in fact a symptom of the huge, all-encompassing regard he has for Magnus. So vast that Alec feels like he will buckle under the weight of it, sometimes.

Magnus blinks open his bright, wet eyes and says, “I love you, too.” 

Alec lets the words warm his bones and doesn’t have time to think anything else because Magnus is getting to his feet and pushing Alec back into his seat, crawling unceremoniously onto Alec’s lap. 

It’s not the kind of chair that lends itself to the positions they end up in but Magnus doesn’t seem to care and Alec has no complaints. Not when Alec’s hands are on Magnus’ ass, not when Magnus is tilting up Alec’s chin and saying with singular certainty, “You are the love of my life, Alec Lightwood,” before kissing him again. His hands are cold under Alec’s shirt, nails scratching Alec’s chest and palming the planes of his back as though he’s trying to warm himself up with Alec’s heat and it must be working because Alec is shivering, goosebumps breaking across his skin.

“D’you – do you want–”

“Yes.” Alec gasps when Magnus starts on his neck. “Yes, Alexander.”

“I want to touch you,” says Alec, words coming out in broken pieces as his head drops back to give Magnus easier, better access to whatever part of Alec he wants. His hand travels up the broad expanse of Magnus back, over his silken blue shirt, to wind into Magnus’ hair and hold him in place. “I want–” Alec wants so many things. He can’t think, not with Magnus sucking a bruise right over Alec’s pulse, his hand resting feather light on the growing bulge between Alec’s legs. “I want–”

“Anything,” murmurs Magnus against Alec’s neck, and the single world wracks through Alec with the force of an electric shock. “Anything you ask of me.”

“I want you to touch me,” says Alec, and can’t quite stop himself from crying out when the maddeningly light pressure on his cock gets firmer, just hard enough for Alec to want it. God, he’s missed this. “I want you inside of me.”

Magnus moans, rocks into Alec from where he’s still on Alec’s lap and Alec’s pulling Magnus back into another bruising kiss, biting at his lower lip. Alec is in a daze, the press of Magnus’ mouth the only thing able to keep his attention. Unbidden, Alec remembers their first time – how he had touched and kissed every inch of Magnus’ skin with clashing greed and reverence and how he had thought that yes – this was the missing piece of purpose his body had been yearning for: this unyielding _want_ Magnus ignites in him that must be fulfilled and right now, Alec has a long absence to make up for.

 _Don’t think_ , Alec reminds himself, something that’s all too easy to do when there’s so much to be feeling instead. He doesn’t stop kissing Magnus, not as he gets his hands back under Magnus, hoists him closer and hoists him up before getting to his feet and making his way blindly toward Magnus’ bedroom.

The strain of Magnus’ weight on Alec’s shoulders and arms are worth the unmistakable sound of arousal that is pulled from Magnus, the way he immediately locks his legs around Alec’s waist and presses in close.

“Fuck,” groans Magnus, between sloppy kisses, fingers tangled in Alec’s hair. “Alexander, you’re–”

He doesn’t finish his thought. Alec is perfectly happy to have Magnus continue to ravage his mouth as he makes his way out of the kitchen, clutching on to Magnus’ ass to hold him in place. He stumbles when Magnus rolls his hips and grinds into him, colliding Magnus back into the bookshelf in the living room. It knocks a sharp breath out of Magnus, but the shock barely lasts a second because a moment later the wall is disappearing behind him in a golden vortex and Magnus is pulling them both down into the downy blankets of his bed. 

Alec barely stops himself from crashing into Magnus’ chest. He catches his weight on his wrists, palms resting on the bed on either side of Magnus’ arms.

“Graceful,” says Magnus, and Alec is kissing him again, fumbling with the buttons of Magnus’ pants. He breaks away to pull them off Magnus’ legs, kissing and biting down the insides of Magnus’ thighs as he works his way down. He sucks a bruise on Magnus’ ankle, and feels the heel of Magnus’ other foot dig into the back of his neck, feels his toes curling into Alec’s hair. 

“Alexander.” Magnus sounds wrecked with desire. When Alec looks up, he finds that Magnus’ expression matches the devastated state of his voice. The colour on his mouth is no longer contained neatly on his lips, and Alec doesn’t know why that detail grips him as it does – but it does, and Alec wants to see Magnus far messier than he looks right now. 

He does just that by crawling back up and tugging the shirt off of Magnus’ body, rumpling his hair and leaving him adorned in nothing but his jewellery. He looks glorious laid out under Alec like that, naked and drenched in sunlight – in complete contrast with Alec, who is still buttoned up all the way down to his shoes. Magnus’ eyes are shut, and harsh breaths escape him as Alec touches the smattering of freckles on his shoulder, runs his hands over the smooth, warm brown of Magnus’ arms, the softness surrounding his ribs. 

Alec doesn’t know how long he spends just touching Magnus, lost in the haze of _feeling._ The warmth of another body. Of Magnus’ body. The only one that Alec has ever wanted. It’s dizzying in its euphoria, getting his fill of it – the miles and miles of skin that has been out of his reach for far too long.

“I love you,” says Alec, pressing the words on to Magnus’ mouth when he finally goes back up again. Magnus whispers, _Alexander,_ and when his eyes blink open Alec finds himself staring into molten gold. 

As always, Alec’s breath catches in his chest at the sight. He takes Magnus’ face in the palm of one hand, sweeps his thumb slowly over the apple of his cheek. “There you are.”

Magnus looks overcome, overwhelmed. Alec has barely even touched his cock, flushed and aroused and pressing into Alec’s thigh from where Alec’s kneeling between Magnus’ splayed legs. Alec feels the hot weight of it through his jeans, feels the way Magnus is rutting into him – and then Magnus says, “Kiss me, Alexander,” and then Alec suddenly has much more to feel. 

The slide of Magnus’ tongue, the softness of his lips. The way Magnus’ hands loosen their grip on Alec’s arms to travel over the rest of him. Alec feels something warm caressing his entire body, the bristles of the softest paintbrush on every part of his skin. When Alec looks at his arm, he sees that it’s bare except for the wooden bracelet on his wrist, engulfed in pale blue fire.

All of Alec is cocooned in a blanket of Magnus’ magic. He feels the flames kissing his cheeks, his chest, his calves – and when he pulls away to look, he sees that they extend to the tips of his fingers. He is kneeling on a pool of ashes, the remnants of his clothes, and yet Alec knows for a fact that there’s not a single burn on him. 

“It won’t hurt you,” says Magnus. He doesn’t let go of Alec as he sits up, doesn’t break Alec’s gaze. Alec can see a hint of himself reflected in Magnus’ irises, a living, breathing wildfire. “I’d never–”

“I know,” says Alec, and he knows it, feels it to be true. Magnus would never hurt Alec. It’s Alec who hurts Alec, setting in motion the events that leave him a burned out, hollow husk of a living being.

But Alec’s been doing his best not to do that anymore and somehow, it’s been working. He reaches for Magnus’ cock, wraps his fingers around the hard length. “Is it hurting _you?”_

“Oh, God, no.” Magnus’ hands claw down Alec’s back until they grab on to Alec’s ass. Alec groans, that sharp sting from Magnus’ rings going straight to his dick. “You feel amazing.”

“Fuck, Magnus.” Magnus drags Alec closer until their hips are pressed flush together. On his knees like this, Alec’s taller than him. When Magnus tilts up his chin – an invitation if Alec’s ever seen one, his eyes having bled completely into gold, not a hint of white left – it’s all Alec can do to seize him and kiss him deep. 

Alec grinds into him, no slick between them except the slow spill of pre-come along their cocks. But there’s something to the harshness that lights Alec up, makes it feel like the fire surrounding him has started to crawl inside. Alec swallows up every moan from Magnus’ mouth, lets Magnus draw out the same from him with every stroke and slap and squeeze of Alec’s ass.

Alec’s bones feels like it’s rattling with the force of his want. Heat is pooling in his stomach and his skin feels too tight, stretched taut and without the capability of keeping this building pleasure contained in the confines of his body. 

This is just one more way Alec needs Magnus. One more way Alec has missed him, one more way Alec wants to keep him, forever. He doesn’t know how he’s managed to go so long without this delirious pleasure crackling through each and every nerve but he knows he never wants it to stop, even as he knows he wants to get Magnus off.

Magnus’ cock is hard and hot and sliding against Alec’s. Magnus’ mouth is buzzing against Alec’s lips. There’s sweat gathering on Magnus’ neck that’s getting caught on Alec’s and Alec knows he doesn’t need much more than this to finish – but then Magnus’ fingers are no longer dry and rough. They’re slick and warm and rubbing torturously slow all along the cleft of Alec’s ass. Alec can barely stand how good it feels. He writhes in Magnus’ hold, his kisses becoming sloppier, his cock getting harder. Magnus goes back and forth down the hidden path until Alec gets used to the steady thrum of not-quite-enough pleasure when something changes minutely in Magnus’ rhythm – this time, he trails two of his fingers down the line from Alec’s tailbone slowly, deliberately, until they’re pressing gently against Alec’s hole.

Alec freezes.

“Alexander,” says Magnus. He immediately moves his hands so they are resting on Alec’s chest. The fire that had been surrounding him – that had felt like Magnus’ electric warmth covering every part of him – has vanished, and the only heat he feels is from the light streaming in from the windows and his own blood searing inside him.

“Sorry,” says Alec, and suddenly his heart is hammering, going from a standstill to a hundred miles a minute. Fuck, he thinks. After all of that Alec can’t even– “Sorry, I’m – it’s been a while. I thought–”

“Alexander,” repeats Magnus, his palms sliding around Alec’s ribs and going to rest against his back, just under his shoulder blades. “Don’t – don’t be sorry. We don’t have to do that. Just kiss me.”

The easiest command for Alec to follow, so he does. Magnus has always had a special ability to never make Alec feel embarrassed, but the growing shame inside Alec right now is almost unbearable. It might be their second-first time, but Alec doesn’t think he’s felt this shaken once during their first-first time and back then he had no idea what he was doing. 

Against Alec’s though they’re both still achingly hard. _Get it together, Lightwood._ He’s not actually a virgin anymore. He knows what Magnus likes. He knows what can feel good.

“Lie back down,” Alec rasps out.

“Alexan–” starts Magnus, but Alec is already pushing Magnus into the pile of pillows and cutting him off with a kiss. 

“I’ve got it. Just – let me,” says Alec. He crawls over Magnus’ legs so that his knees are on either side of Magnus’ waist, reaches down to cup Magnus and squeeze the base of his cock. Magnus clutches at the sheets, strands of white spilling above his navel. He groans when Alec presses the length of him flat against his stomach, to hold him in place while Alec lowers himself until he’s sitting on Magnus and has Magnus’ cock nestled along the gap between his cheeks.

Alec experimentally clenches his muscles, and feels relief unspool in his chest when Magnus lets out his most broken cry yet. 

“Good?” Alec starts to rock his hips, feels Magnus glide back and forth in Alec’s cleft. He keeps himself as tight as he can for Magnus’ cock, tremors of pleasure hitting him whenever the head of it prods the back of Alec’s balls and slides underneath them. 

“Incredible,” breathes Magnus. “You’re incredible.”

Magnus banishes his rings and goes to wrap his fingers around Alec. He never quite manages to keep a firm grip, however – his body shudders every time Alec pulls carefully at his head in tandem with squeezing around him, brushing the rough pad of his thumb over Magnus’ slit.

Alec loses himself in the rhythm of it. There’s something almost wild that grips him at the thought of bringing Magnus off with just this. Magnus is hot and heavy and pulsing against Alec’s ass, and when Magnus gasps out dazedly, brokenly, “I’m close – Alexander – oh God – I’m close–” Alec slides off Magnus and jacks him off, staring at the way Magnus’ mouth parts as his eyes close. His body arches sinuously, locking in place for a single, magical second before he unravels all at once and he spends himself over Alec’s hand.

Stunning, thinks Alec, and tenderness overwhelms the scorching desert heat inside of him when Magnus blinks open his dazed eyes and they’re back to the deep, familiar brown. Magnus’ mouth is pliant against Alec’s when Alec kisses him. Alec has never needed much to come to a finish, and now he thrusts almost frantically against Magnus’ thigh to give his cock that last, remaining push. 

“Do you want my mouth on you, Alexander?” murmurs Magnus. “Or are you really going to get yourself off on my leg?”

Alec lets out the most obscene noise, burying his burning face in Magnus’ neck. The suggestion that he’s so easy and dirty and desperate for Magnus is true enough, but to hear Magnus say it, to know that Magnus _knows_ it – it has something tightening inside Alec, has him squeezing his eyes shut even with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The fear that comes from being seen and the exhilaration that follows at the realization that it’s okay – welcome, even.

Alec doesn’t really have time to think too deeply about it though because Magnus reaches behind Alec and accompanies his filthy whispers with just a touch at Alec’s straining cock and that’s it, that’s all that was needed for Alec to be coming with a harsh gasp. His hips stutter as he spends himself and bonelessly collapses on Magnus, a marionette with its strings cut off.

Magnus is stroking Alec’s sweat slicked back, holding him as he comes down. Alec rolls over and flops down on the bed once he catches his breath, staring up at the ceiling. His mind is completely blank, the remnants of bliss still lingering at the edges and making him too languid to think of anything except what his senses perceive. 

“Damn,” he says, eyeing the scorch marks above him. “Was that you or me?”

“Since I don’t recall you having any magic,” says Magnus, voice rough but not lacking in amusement, “I’m pretty sure that was me.”

“I’m pretty sure I was on fire for a while there.” 

“That... was also me.”

“Did you also burn away my phone and stele?”

“Oh.” For the first time, Magnus sounds a little worried. “I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.”

Alec huffs out a laugh, turning on his side to be able to see Magnus properly. What he sees is: Magnus looking at him, eyes soft and heavy. There’s something about his face that has Alec feeling small and invincible all at once, at a loss and in absolute clarity. 

Quietly, Magnus asks, “How are you?”

“I’m good,” says Alec. “I’m really, really good.” Then, because he can’t think of a reason not to, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” says Magnus, as though it is nothing but the natural continuation of Alec’s declaration, the next part of an unfinished sentence. He reaches forward to push Alec’s hair back from his face, unnecessarily tucking some of the short strands behind the shell of Alec’s ear. 

“Sorry that it, uh–” Alec clears his throat, feeling a hint of that earlier mortification come back. “Sorry I got weird for a second, back there.”

“That’s all right,” says Magnus easily. “I think the scorch marks are evidence enough of my thoughts on our performance.”

“We’ll... I’ll probably have to work my way back up to that.”

“Go through that training regiment again?” asks Magnus, now having moved on to playing with the hair on Alec’s chest. “Excellent.”

Magnus sounds delighted and the delight is infectious, bubbling inside Alec and leaving him feeling light enough to drift away. Shaking his head, Alec says, “You’re so – you sound so happy.”

“I just had a mind-numbing orgasm and am five seconds away from passing out with you next to me.” Alec feels his heart jump, and tries to keep it in place by putting his hand above Magnus’ and flattening them both down on his chest. “I’m so happy right now, Alexander, that this might as well be a dream.”

Alec has had dreams like this. Has felt this in his sleep, felt it ebb away with every blink of awareness when he woke up in an empty bed. It all seems so far away now.

“It’s not a dream,” says Alec. He says it quietly, half-convinced that saying it any louder would reveal it to be false and pull them out of it in the process. “It’s real.”

“Even better,” says Magnus. He sighs, reaching forward to press a kiss on the corner of Alec’s mouth. “You’ve always been better than anything I could dream up.”

“That’s not true,” says Alec, and seeing the way Magnus’ expression starts to morph away from that drowsy contentment to something more reprimanding, he adds, “But thank you for saying that. And thank you for – for your present, earlier.”

“It’s nothing,” says Magnus, dismissive. “Wait until you see the rest of it.” 

Despite Magnus’ words, Alec doesn’t miss the way his whole face softens with – relief, with sweetness.

“I don’t need to see the rest of it,” says Alec. It’s something that Magnus should already know – that Alec has never needed anything from Magnus except for Magnus to want him. “So long as you’re there for it.”

“I’ll be there for all of it,” replies Magnus. “I promise.”

Magnus drifts off to sleep soon after that. Alec is left viscerally aware of the soft sheets, the comforting weight of Magnus’ head on his shoulder and Magnus’ arm across his stomach, the warmth of Magnus’ skin as Alec absently strokes his arm. He thinks about trying to get to the bathroom and getting a towel to clean them off, but the pull of sleep is strong on his limbs, as is the pull of Magnus’ presence in bed.

Instead, Alec watches Magnus. Thinks about how long it’s been that they’ve been doing this. Thinks about what they had been talking about before Alec had gotten tired of talking, tired of thinking. 

If someone were to ask Alec – and if Alec were the type to answer such a question – he would say that whatever it is that he feels for Magnus right now reaches an even deeper part of him than it had yesterday, the day before, the month before – the year before. It pervades Alec’s bones, wraps vines around his heart and lungs. 

Alec thinks back to their date in Prospect Park. If he takes that as the day they started again, then it’s been more than three months. It’s almost twice as long as they’ve been together the first go around. 

It’s an arbitrary milestone. It’s not any indicator that they’re going to work out in the long run. Alec still understands – refuses to let himself forget – that love isn’t enough to try and make things work. It never has been. If Alec could, he would go back to that morning when he had decided he wouldn’t let Magnus have any reason to doubt Alec’s devotion to him, had sealed that promise inside himself with the interlocking of their fingers. Alec would tell that younger version of himself, _stop, you’re doing it wrong, this isn’t going to work and this isn’t what he needs from you. It’s going to take you months to recover from how wrong you are. You’re never actually going to._

But somehow they still made it here. And making it this far is something. These vines around his heart – it’s something. This love has been an irremovable mark within Alec since he had put a name on the feeling so long ago now, and even though he’d known it to be permanent even back then, the truth of it settles even further inside him, now. A part of his identity, as much as his runes.

Alec holds his arm out, looks at the unassuming bracelet adorning his wrist. A physical reminder of everything that has happened. Whatever it is that they’ve been doing differently, taking their time in learning each other again – it’s been working, it’s led them to this moment right now. The tranquility on Magnus’ sleeping face is reflected in the tranquility in Alec’s mind, his heart.

 _You’re not happy,_ Jace had said.

 _Yes, I am,_ Alec can finally, truthfully answer him. Maybe not forever, probably not for very long, even – but for this moment, it’s reality. _And I will be, as long as I keep trying._

For the first time in a long time, under the bright golden light of the morning sun, Alec finds that it’s easy to fall asleep. 

-  
-

 

**INTERLUDE – APRIL, PART III**

Alec goes and finds Izzy. 

“I need to talk to you,” he says, barging into her room and shutting the door behind him. Izzy, who had been bobbing her head to some upbeat music as she fixed the permanent runes on her arm, looks up in alarm at the sudden noise. She gears up to yell at him, but Alec ploughs on before she can. “Magnus – Magnus said some things to me today.”

The startled annoyance on her face immediately bleeds away to something – composed, contained. Alec is reminded suddenly of their mother. His mother who he loves, but – but she’s not the person he came to see.

“What did he say?” she asks, carefully putting away her things. 

Alec opens his mouth to say, _that he’s in love with me, that he thinks we can make it work,_ but the words don’t come out. He suddenly feels like it was a mistake to come here, to bring this out in the open to anyone who isn’t himself or Magnus. 

But this is Izzy. Izzy, who gets to her feet and drags him over to sit on the settee by her window. Izzy has never let Alec down, not in any way that mattered. She’s his support, his champion. She’s one of the handful of people Alec can rely on to have his back. She’s someone who has always tried to take care of him in the ways she could, even though it was never her responsibility to do so. 

Alec knows who he is to her and who she is to him. When Izzy says she loves him – Alec knows exactly what she means. 

“Alec, what did Magnus say?”

“He said that he wants to be with me,” says Alec. It almost feels like Alec is making it up, the sentence sitting strange on his tongue. 

Izzy has no visible reaction. “And what did you say?”

“I said I didn’t know what to say, Izzy,” groans Alec, burying his face in his hands. He’s tired. Every time he tries to think he just – he blanks out. “It doesn’t make sense to me. I’m no good with these things. That’s why I’m here.”

“Alec, you’re the most emotionally competent person in this family.” 

Alec looks up from his hands to give her a look that hopefully conveys his incredulity. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Granted, we’ve set a pretty low bar,” admits Izzy, rolling her eyes. It’s a relief to see her have a real expression on her face. “But you understand people, Alec. It’s what makes you so good at taking care of us. Me and Jace and Max and mom, even. If you can do _that_ for the last fifteen years, you can figure this one out.”

“I don’t – I don’t think I can.” It’s a hard admission to make, but a truthful one. Alec has thought about it, and no matter which angle he comes at it from, which perspective he changes – maybe he just doesn’t understand Magnus, not the way he thought he did. Not the way he understands his family. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?”

Alec can’t start with that. 

“I need someone to tell me what to do, Iz.”

“No you don’t. You’re just – you’re rattled. Even if I had advice, you’d start poking holes and coming up with all the reasons it wouldn’t work the second I started talking.”

Alec laughs a little, surprised that he has the capacity for it right now. 

“That’s probably true,” he says. And then, curiously, “But if we pretend for a second that it wasn’t... what _do_ you think I should do?”

When Izzy hesitates, Alec says, “Izzy, c’mon. You never keep your opinions to yourself.”

Even with that, Izzy doesn’t start talking. She looks pensive, staring at the wall in front of her instead of at Alec. Instinctively, Alec feels his gears shifting: it’s all too easy to push aside his own confusion and anxiety at the possibility that something might be wrong with Izzy. 

“Izzy?”

“Do you remember,” she suddenly starts, “the first night we met Magnus? When he summoned the memory demon to help Clary?”

Alec winces. That had been a mess and a half. 

“Uh, unfortunately.”

“I gave up a memory of you as the price the demon wanted,” says Izzy. “A memory of the person I love most in the world.”

“Izzy,” says Alec, not sure what’s going on but knowing he’s not prepared to handle it. Out of everything that’s happened to him over the past few days – this might be what ends up breaking Alec. “Izzy, what–”

“You’re still that to me, Alec. Magnus and I – the two of us have a lot in common. One of them is that we don’t forgive and forget. And I think you want a certain answer from me with what to do with Magnus, but I can’t give that to you. Every time I try to think about how happy you were with him, how much I adored him – all I see is how he broke the heart of the best person I know and the rest of it just stops mattering.”

For a moment, Alec loses the capacity to speak. 

“You don’t know all of it,” he says at last. “I – I really hurt him.”

“Alec,” says Izzy, sounding almost sad. “People hurt each other, sometimes. Good people. Haven’t you and I hurt each other? And you and Jace – and me and Mom. It’s a part of being alive. But I know you, know what you’re like. Know how much you love him. I don’t think you meant to hurt him, and when you did, you did everything that you could to fix it. If he can’t see that–”

“It doesn’t matter if I meant to or not. It matters that I did it. I kept a secret from him, and in retrospect – it was stupid of me to think he wouldn’t be hurt when he found out. If he found out. Or that he’d understand my – my intentions or whatever.”

“Magnus isn’t just a random person on the street who doesn’t know you, Alec. Of course your intentions matter.”

“Why? It doesn’t mean I deserve forgiveness.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Alec can feel Izzy go tense beside him. “Don’t go down that path, big brother. If he says he wants to be with you, then that means he already has.”

“Izzy–”

“I’ve got a question for you, then,” says Izzy, talking over him. “Have you forgiven him?” 

“What?” says Alec, not expecting the question. “What do I have to forgive him for?”

“For hurting you. For meaning to hurt you. And I don’t mean all that bullshit with the seelies – I mean how cold he was to you.”

Alec can’t look at her. There’s nothing he can say to that that won’t undermine the magnitude of her loyalty. She’s so convinced that he is deserving of patience and understanding that she’s lost sight of the fact that Magnus is the most patient and understanding person Alec has had the fortune to meet. Not just to Alec. Alec hadn’t fallen in love just with Magnus’ warmth and beauty and his unwillingness to compromise himself in the face of persecution. He’d also fallen in love with the compassion and generosity of Magnus’ heart. 

Magnus has given Alec more breaks and second chances than Alec can count and Alec knows that that’s not easy. He’s not an easy person to be with. If Magnus had hurt Alec in any way, it had been deserved. Alec even knows why he deserved it.

He doesn’t say any of this, however. Instead he looks at his hands, at how blurry they are, and blinks and blinks and blinks until there’s some degree of clarity again. 

Beside him, Izzy sighs. She says, somewhat unhappily, “I think – I think you should ask yourself what you want. Ask yourself why you think this doesn’t make sense. And then you should go get what you want, and find the answers that’ll help you make sense of it.”

When seconds go by without Alec saying anything, Izzy puts a hand on his shoulder. “Alec?”

“Thank you,” he says, voice rough. “For talking to me about all of that.” It’s inadequate, but at the moment, so is Alec. He’s so grateful for Izzy’s existence that he can’t frame it into words, anything as simple as language would not be able to explain it. That Izzy is clever and compassionate and one of the most capable warriors Alec has ever met, that’s fact. That the world is a better place with her in it is also fact. That _Alec’s_ world would be unrecognizable, unbearable without her is – its more than fact. It’s a fundamental force in Alec’s universe. 

“I love you,” he tells her. “I don’t say it as much as I should, but – I do.”

“Love you too, big brother,” says Izzy, sighing as she rests her head on his shoulder. “And I’ll be here while you figure the rest of it out.”

-

 

The last text Magnus sent Alec was six months ago. _Alec, stop this._

The last text Alec had sent Magnus was three weeks ago. Four days before he’d gone to Idris. _I don’t know if you’re still getting these, but I don’t know what else to do_ he’d sent. _Can we talk?_

Still it sits unanswered, along with the countless ones preceding it. Get some self-respect, he remembers thinking, his sense of loss growing as he looks at the sheer number of messages he’d sent. Even as he tried to lengthen the time between each text – the second last one is from five weeks ago, a whole two weeks in between – it’s painful, how obvious Alec’s desperation is. 

He remembers thinking: if he wanted to talk to you, he would. Give him space. Let him move on. There are some things that are out of your control. 

The problem, thinks Alec, isn’t what Alec wants. There is no question about what Alec wants. What Alec wants has never been a secret. What Alec wants is preserved in the countless unanswered texts and calls. In Izzy rolling her eyes when he said, “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, Izzy,” and seeing her dismissive brevity grow into pity and confusion and disbelieving anger the longer it continued. 

So no, it isn’t about what Alec wants. It’s not even about Alec’s pride, which is non-existent when it comes to Magnus, his family. 

The problem is that Alec knows what he wants, and by some miracle it sounds like Magnus wants the same thing. But Alec doesn’t see how they can have it. All Alec can see is all the ways they can’t.

But maybe Magnus has figured out the piece Alec is missing.

Alec types, _Are you free tonight?_

The answer comes less than a minute later. _Yes. Do you want to come by at 7?_

Alec stares down at his phone. 

Less than a minute.

This is good, he reminds himself, ignoring the awful feeling rising in him. It means Magnus wants to talk to him. And Alec – Alec wants to talk to Magnus. He wants to figure out what happened then, and what’s going on right now.

He sends, _I was thinking we could go for a walk._

-

 

They meet at the High Line, at the entrance on 14th. Spring hasn’t fully settled in the park yet, but it matters very little at night. Especially at this time of the year, when the lights that go up in the summer haven’t been put out yet. It’s not particularly romantic without the blooming flowers, it’s outside in the cold. 

It’s far away from both the Institute and Magnus’ apartment.

 _Hey,_ practices Alec in his head, soundlessly moving his mouth as he jogs up the stairs. He gets there fifteen minutes ahead of time, which is hopefully enough to get his nerves under control. _Thanks for seeing me. I know that I didn’t give too much of a heads up, so – I appreciate it. I just wanted to–_

The words fizzle out of Alec’s brain when he gets to the top step and finds Magnus already there, leaning against the railing and looking out at the water. 

He’s got on a deep burgundy jacket Alec has never seen before, one with a high collar that ends at his knees. It outlines the broadness of his shoulders and the trimness of his waist. Alec aches to look at him against the backdrop of the deep red sky and he hasn’t even seen Magnus’ face yet. He doesn’t look real to Alec. He looks beautiful and timeless. He looks untouchable. He looks like everything Alec wants, and everything that will haunt Alec for years to come if he doesn’t try his best to reach him. 

Alec has never been so uncertain as to what lies ahead of him. But he knows he needs to find out, one way or another.

Breathing past the nerves that are suddenly tightening his throat, Alec bridges the remaining distance between them. “Magnus.”

Magnus turns around, and Alec finds it in himself to return the hesitant smile Magnus greets him with. 

“Alexander. How are you?”

“Good.” He doesn’t know what else to say. All he can think is, _I missed you,_ and, _I love you,_ and, _why are you doing this?_ and none of those – none of those are the right choice to open a conversation. 

Magnus’ smile dims the longer Alec remains so painfully, unmistakably quiet. And then it fades altogether. He looks away, pursing his mouth in the way he does when he’s holding himself back from saying something in anger or fear or frustration. Something he knows he will regret later. Alec almost wishes Magnus would just – just say it, just so he’s not alone in his regret. So he’s not the only one bearing the weight of everything that’s deteriorated between the–

Alec’s shakes himself out of it. Just seconds of looking at Magnus and Alec is already getting emotional. Today isn’t about Alec’s feelings. Alec is here today so he can understand, and he can’t understand anything if he’s just standing around feeling sorry for himself. 

With his hands still shoved inside his jacket pockets, Alec gestures at the path ahead. “Should we...?”

Things haven’t been so awkward and uncomfortable with Magnus since their disaster of a first date. The walk along the train tracks of the High Line now is a strange mimicry of what had happened then: Magnus talking to distract from the gaping weight of Alec’s silence, the chill from the evening air stinging their cheeks; Alec barely hearing what Magnus is saying over the sound of everything else clamouring in his head. 

Somewhere in the middle of Magnus’ story about the first time he came to Manhattan after Penn Station had been built, Alec reaches out and touches Magnus’ elbow. Magnus’ words come to an abrupt halt, as do his steps. 

“Alexander?”

“Did you mean it?” asks Alec, trying and failing to find a way to ease into it and defaulting to what he does best: bulldozing ahead and hoping for the best. “Do you want to give us another shot?”

They’re standing in the middle of the walkway. Magnus swallows, eyes suddenly wider and brighter than what they were a moment ago.

“We should – we should sit down,” says Magnus, gaze roaming around for an empty bench. As if by magic – perhaps a nudge of Magnus’ own – a nearby spot opens up beside them, the couple sitting there getting up and walking off with their fingers interlinked.

“Because if you do,” says Alec, following Magnus to the bench, “and you were asking what I wanted – then my answer’s yes. Of course I want it.”

As if the answer would ever be anything different from him. Even with the understanding that what they had between them turned out to be tenuous, more delicate than what Alec had thought at the beginning, it would take more than six months for Alec to move on from this man, if ever at all. It would have taken him years to recalibrate his heart to remember Magnus not as a fundamental part of him, but just – as someone he loved. Loves. Someone who Alec let down in an incomparable way.

But Magnus looks taken aback by Alec’s response, as though it’s something unexpected. Until now, Alec hadn’t noticed that Magnus had sat with his hands clenched tight on his lap.

“Yes,” says Magnus, voice rough. He’s blinking too much, too rapidly. “Yes, that’s what I want. I’m sorry, I thought – at the Institute, after the other day–” He pauses, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think this would be your answer.”

“My answer’s always been yes, Magnus.” Here, Magnus looks away, as though in regret. Alec doesn’t want him to look away. Magnus has nothing he should regret. “I was just – I’m just trying to understand what happened and what changed. So we’re both on the same page.”

“What don’t you understand?” asks Magnus, quiet. 

Too much. There’s too much Alec doesn’t understand.

“Every time I look at you,” starts Alec, and hates how terse he sounds. How he almost can’t bear to get each word out. “Every time I’ve looked at you all this time, I don’t just see how I lost you. I see how much I hurt you, and I remember every time why it makes sense that you don’t want to be with me. It – it makes sense to me that you wouldn’t. So I’m trying to figure out why you would.”

“Alexander,” says Magnus. Alec doesn’t think he’s ever heard such wretchedness attached to his name before “I thought you were done breaking my heart.”

“I’m sorry,” says Alec tightly. “That’s not – that’s not something I ever wanted to do.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Magnus looks incredibly tired. “All right, we’ll do this your way. What do you want to know?”

Already Alec’s eyes have started to burn. He blinks in the cold air to make sure that that’s how far it goes. Being upset isn’t going to solve anything. It never has, and Alec knows that the key to getting things done is action, to do what you can to keep moving. 

“It’s the same thing I wanted to know before,” says Alec. “What changed in how you feel about me? In where you see us going?”

“Nothing has changed. Not for me. I never stopped loving you, Alexander. Walking away from you took the kind of strength I didn’t think I was capable of. If I could have seen any other option back then – I wouldn’t have done it.”

Magnus is making it sound like everything that happened hadn’t been personal at all. Alec may have even believed it if they had even a semblance of a civil and courteous relationship during their time apart. If Magnus could have borne to look at him.

“You’re telling me that none of it had to do with how I hurt you?” asks Alec, because he doesn’t want Magnus to hold back because he thinks Alec is not going to be able to handle hearing it. “That it wasn’t about – about not being able to get over what happened? That you’d have made the same decisions if I hadn’t – if I’d told you about everything from the start?”

“Alexander,” says Magnus. “I don’t think going down a path of what-if is going to help either of us.”

A direct shut down. Alec takes a moment to just breathe in hopes that it will help ease the tension in his chest. It doesn’t. 

“All right,” says Alec. “Then let me ask something else.”

Magnus looks deeply wary, but nods in acquiescence. 

“You said there were no other options.” Magnus said this now, but it reminds Alec of that awful conversation in the hallway of the Institute, right before Alec’s heart walked away from him. There are decisions I have to make, he had said. The only thing holding me back from doing that is you. “That to do what you had to, you couldn’t be with me.”

“Yes,” says Magnus, and both his voice and his body is curled tight like a spring. “That’s what I thought, at the time. I don’t think that anymore.”

Alec stares, wondering if Magnus realizes what he’s saying. A hint of something that’s changed, even as he has been insisting all this time that nothing has, not for him.

“But at the time,” says Alec. “Why did you – what made you think that?” 

Alec had been so certain that he and Magnus had wanted the same thing. That they were both working toward – something, together. Something stronger than Alec’s poor judgment.

“I–” Magnus cuts himself off. His Adam’s apple moves in his throat, a sign of his distress. “I don’t have an answer you’ll like.”

“You don’t have to coddle me,” bites out Alec, even as he finds himself tensing, preparing for an oncoming attack. Danger is danger, after all. Even if it’s expected. Even if it’s deserved. “Just tell me the truth. Help me understand.”

Breaking away from Alec’s gaze to look ahead, Magnus says, “I didn’t think you wanted the same things I did.”

Magnus says it quietly, softer than a whisper, but Alec feels the weight of it hit him like a freight train. It’s nothing Alec didn’t already know, but to hear it from Magnus’ mouth is something else entirely. 

“What did you think I wanted?” asks Alec. He almost doesn’t want to hear the answer. “What did you think I was doing?”

Did Magnus think Alec wanted the entire downworld to burn? That he hadn’t been employing all his resources to tracking down Valentine and his monster of a son? Again, Alec doesn’t say it out loud. He can’t bring them to life. Each word would be a tailored arrow with the sole purpose of wounding Alec, and he might not be able to help the truth of their existence but he can at least protect himself by not notching and aiming them himself. 

If Magnus had really thought that Alec, as a person, lacked a fundamental decency – then how did Magnus come back from that?

But when Magnus answers, it’s different. The words spill out of him so rapidly it’s as though Magnus had been gathering them for the last six months, waiting for the right time to say it. 

“I thought that if you really cared about me, trusted me, then you wouldn’t have kept it a secret.” You didn’t trust that I’d keep it quiet? Magnus had demanded back then, fury and betrayal warring on his face. “And if you didn’t care about me, then I didn’t owe you anything when making the decisions that are best for me and my people. I was free to make decisions as I would if you weren’t in my life. If I didn’t love you. As if you weren’t what was best for me.” 

Alec doesn’t hear anything past, “If you didn’t care about me.” 

“That’s not–” He can’t even finish his sentence. _That’s not what it was about at all. I was trying to protect you and everyone else too. I went about it the wrong way and I’m sorry._

The urge to explain himself is strong, almost instinctive, but Alec holds his tongue because – because none of this is anything new that Alec hasn’t said to Magnus a hundred times time already. At the end of the day, one of the main things Alec has learned from this experience is that despite what Izzy wants him to believe, intentions matter very little. No matter what Alec had been trying to do, he’d failed to accomplish it – and also lost Magnus in the process. 

But if Alec has learned anything, it is that he’s a work in progress. This is about him collecting information, trying to understand what happened. And there is a question that’s been waiting in the wings since the day Magnus left him. The day Magnus realized that Alec’s love wasn’t enough, that Alec’s remorse wasn’t enough to fix what had been broken. 

“I had to shut down the best parts of myself to stay away from you. I had to make myself cold, make myself believe that you’d never come through for me. But Alexander – it didn’t work. Breaking it off didn’t mean I could just – turn it off. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shut it off. I just. I couldn’t stop wanting you. Loving you.”

 _But you wanted to._

And somehow that’s worse. Intentions may not matter to the outside world but it matters to Alec, and it’s difficult to swallow that Alec had hurt Magnus so thoroughly that the rational part of Magnus had wanted to stop feeling anything for Alec but his bleeding heart hadn’t allowed him to.

“I guess something did change between then and now,” murmurs Magnus, almost to himself. Alec hears it though, and it’s just one more in a tally of a thousand cuts: “I stopped trying not to love you. I stopped going against something that’s as part of my nature as my magic.”

Alec has to clear his throat before he can start again. At least Alec now has the answers he was looking for, to the first question Magnus didn’t want to answer.

“Okay,” he says at last. “Okay.” And then, “I’m so fucking sorry.” Alec has lost count of the number of times he’s said this, conveyed it in words whenever their paths crossed for professionally, through a thousand pathetic texts. But he’ll keep saying it, meaning it. It’s not even a fraction of what Alec is willing to do for him. 

“What?” Magnus looks taken aback. “Why – why are _you_ possibly saying that?”

“Because I hurt you,” says Alec. “And it might have been a long time ago, but – I have to say it again. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept that from you. It could have – it could have spared both of us a lot of–” Alec breaks off. “It would’ve spared both of us a lot.”

Magnus looks unsettled. His frown grows deeper. “What do you mean?”

“After all of that – I don’t know if you were trying to spare my feelings, but you can’t possibly expect me to believe that you’d have done everything the same if I hadn’t kept that from you.” Magnus would have to think Alec is a complete idiot, to not be able to follow the pattern of cause and effect.

“Alexander,” says Magnus sharply, “I already told you–” 

“That you don’t want to talk about what-ifs?” finishes Alec. All if him aches, not just his heart. “Why not, Magnus?”

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore,” says Magnus. “It’s in the past.”

“It matters to me,” says Alec. “If we’re going to do this again, then I need to know. This might have happened months ago but all of it is so – it’s so clear in my head that it might as well have happened yesterday.”

And then Magnus stands up, takes steps to physically distance himself from Alec. A wave of blue overtakes them both. “Silencing spell,” Magnus says tersely. “Since we decided having this conversation in a public place would be a good idea.”

Alec can’t believe this. “You could’ve suggested something else,” he snaps, walking over to him. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I haven’t answered it because I know it’s not going to help,” says Magnus. “How is it – how is it possibly going to help to hear that maybe I would have done everything the same?”

“But you wouldn’t have,” says Alec. “You said you did what you did because you couldn’t trust me.” 

“It’s not – it’s not as simple as that,” says Magnus, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “I said I thought I had to make a choice. Between the choice of saving my race and as a result, making decisions that would put you and I at odds with each other, Alexander – that part is always going to be true. Allying myself with the Seelie Queen – I still would have done that. That was about me trying to ensuring that the warlocks survived what was to come and not let myself think about what it would mean for everyone else. That was about the Clave and not having the luxury to trust they’d come through.”

“I work for the Clave,” says Alec. It’s something that Magnus couldn’t afford to forget. You’re just like them, he had said. Making promises you never intend to keep. _I had to make myself believe you wouldn’t come through for me._ “I’m a part of that. And I want to change things with them, Magnus.” 

Magnus had been instrumental, the catalyst even, to Alec seeing so much of what is wrong with their world. What is wrong with _him_. And now that Alec has seen it, it’s against his very nature to sit still and let it continue. Even if Magnus isn’t beside him as he starts in on this task. 

Alec says, “I want to change things in myself so that I don’t make the same mistakes. And I’m trying. I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to do my best to listen to what you and the other leaders of the downworld have to say and if it makes sense to me, I’ll use whatever influence I have to make it happen. All of us are going to have to team up to do it. But unless we’re willing to start a war, that’s not going to be something that can happen overnight.”

Whatever Magnus sees in Alec’s face has his face twisting again in grief. 

“Maybe you’re right,” he says at last. “Maybe if I hadn’t been hurt – if my judgment hadn’t been clouded – maybe I would have made certain decisions differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have been as easily convinced to put up those wards around the city. Maybe I wouldn’t have damaged my relationship with the werewolves and gone to save Maia. It doesn’t – it doesn’t matter. We can’t get caught up in maybes, Alexander. I made my decisions and good or bad – they were mine.

“But I want to make something clear right now,” continues Magnus fiercely. “I would have made the same decision then because I would have thought that there was a choice that had to be made. But Alexander, knowing and understanding what I do now, with the benefit of hindsight, I don’t think there’s a choice to be made. No, I _know_ there’s no choice.” 

“What?” Alec is lost. Everything about their discussion so far has only served to convince Alec that Magnus is selling himself short by getting back into this relationship. “Why do you think that?” 

“Because everything you’ve done so far, with the Cabinet, with putting yourself on the line of fire – all of it just proves something I should have already known. That we _do_ want the same thing. We just – sometimes have to learn from each other and figure out what’s the best way to get it. It’s something that’s as clear as day when I’m not being ruled by my emotions. We do want the same things, even if we don’t always have the same idea on how to go about it. And I’m sorry that I lost sight of that. I’m sorry for any and every hurt I caused you because of it. And I’m – I’m sorry it took me so long to say all of this.” 

Somehow, suddenly, Magnus is standing much closer than Alec remembers. “I never wanted to leave you, Alexander,” he says. It’s nothing he hasn’t said to Alec already – multiple times, even – but something about this iteration sounds like a hushed confession. “But with everything that had happened with the Sword and the Clave and Valentine, I just – it was easier to try and look for evidence that you didn’t care about me. And with that kind of anger and hurt – I couldn’t see another way. That’s the truth in its simplest form. I think there are some things that we could’ve both done better but – I truly, honestly believe that it was a mistake. Whatever secrets you kept, whatever impulsive decisions I made.”

Except that Alec understands all of Magnus’ decisions while Alec’s mistake made Magnus want to have nothing to do with him. And this kind of mistake, where Alec’s judgment had been in error – it could happen again. It’s almost guaranteed to. It’s already happened so many times in the course of their relationship that it’s almost a marvel that they lasted as long as they did.

Sighing, Magnus finishes, “That’s it, I suppose. I don’t know what else I can say.”

“You don’t have to,” replies Alec, voice rough and soul struggling to bear the weight of the last few months, somehow even harder now after this conversation. “I understand.”

How to take responsibility for his actions is something that Alec has always understood.

At the end of the day, all Alec can rely on are facts as they are, not how he _wishes_ they were. And the facts are: this was never a mutual separation, a decision they made together even as Alec certainly understands why Magnus felt he had to. The facts are: Alec had asked Magnus to stay, to forgive him one more time, to try to make it work – and Magnus didn’t. Because Magnus had run out of steam in this endless cycle of Alec fucking up and never quite learning and Magnus having to find it in his heart to forgive him. It had been selfish of Alec to ask him to stay. Magnus has responsibilities, things that must come first and Alec’s secret, his lie, outweighed everything else they’d tried to build together, revealed him to be someone untrustworthy and unreliable in a way Magnus hadn’t seen before. 

In a way, he still can’t – but he’s doing it anyway. Magnus is still doing it, because he’s tired and wants Alec even though he’d spent months wishing he didn’t. He’s doing it because Alec has, by some miracle, not made another mistake in the work he’s been doing with the Cabinet. The work he’s been doing as the Head of the Institute. 

It leaves a bitter taste in Alec’s mouth, but it strengthens his resolve. It helps him make the decision on what to do next. 

Because the facts are also this: Alec loves this man, and loving Magnus means that Alec wants him in his life. Even though he doesn’t deserve it. Even if he has to work every second of every day to prove to Magnus that he’s worth it. Actions, not intentions. Better actions. The correct actions. He will never stop regretting having lost Magnus for the time that he did, but for the fraction of that time that Magnus wants him – Alec is going to do his damned best to not disappoint him. 

He has lived through life without having Magnus in it and it had been a miserable existence. And for as long as he can with whatever he has to offer, he’s going to make sure it doesn’t happen again. 

“You do?” asks Magnus, still uncertain. 

“Yes,” confirms Alec. He reaches for Magnus’ hand, takes them carefully in between his own. “I understand. I’m not going to let you down again, Magnus. And if you still want me after all of that and want to try – then I’m in.”

Magnus looks stunned, even though Alec had started this whole tiring conversation with the very same fact.

“I want you,” he whispers. He places a careful hand on Alec's face, and Alec has to close his eyes. The warmth of Magnus’ palm, the coldness of his rings. Even the graze of the cuff of Magnus’ sleeve against his chin. “I want you, Alexander. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make us work.”

“All right,” says Alec, closing his eyes. After so long of holding himself back, it feels almost foreign to let himself gain comfort from Magnus’ touch. _You can’t screw this up again, Lightwood. Life’s not going to keep giving you so many chances._ “Then let’s do this.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh we’re finally here! the final chapter! it’s been a harrowing but rewarding road for me to get here. as i said at the beginning of chapter 1, this story is a deeply important one for me and i appreciate every single kudo you guys leave behind, every comment talking about the parts of the story that struck a particular chord with you. i’m incredibly grateful for everyone’s response.
> 
> thank you as always to [beatperfume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume/pseuds/beatperfume) and [ partnerincrime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partnerincrime/pseuds/partnerincrime) for the sheer investment of their time and effort into making this story better. i would have definitely failed out of finishing this story without you. <3
> 
> i hope you all enjoy reading!!

**OCTOBER**

Magnus looks almost insultingly shocked when Alec confirms that he can drive. 

“I wouldn’t have suggested a holiday where we road-trip down the Spanish coast if I wasn’t going to contribute to the actual driving,” Alec says, amused. “I don’t drive around Manhattan because that’d be nuts, but how do you think I get around Brooklyn? By activating my speed rune and jumping across rooftops?”

“Um, _yes_ because that’s what every downworlder thinks and it’s incredibly sexy for me to picture you doing that,” says Magnus, and his shock slowly transitions into glee. “But this is amazing. How did I not know this about you? It doesn’t matter. I have more important questions, the most pertinent being: what kind of car do you have?”

“I don’t actually own a car,” says Alec. “We have a garage full of them that’s the Institute’s property.”

“But there must be one that’s your go-to. Is it horribly expensive? What am I saying, of course it is if the Clave’s sponsoring this. Is it a sports car? Do you have a Porsche? A Jaguar?” Magnus shakes his head. “No, because those are far too flashy for you. You’d want something practical, with good safety features. Something sturdier in case you have to get into a high speed pursuit and need to do a U-turn over a boulevard. But maybe with a _little_ bit of oomph because you do like showing off from time to time...”

Magnus has far too good of a read on him. Alec doesn’t know if confirming or denying what he’s saying will delight or disappoint him. 

“We can rent whichever car you want,” promises Alec. “Let’s figure out the rest of the route though. I’ll probably be able to get myself an entire week off in April.”

“I don’t know how many more surprises I can handle today, Alexander,” says Magnus, but he turns back to the physical map he has spread out over the living room floor. “First you suggest leaving the country to go _traveling_ , then the revelation about this unknown talent with vehicles in your repertoire of skills...”

It’s a fair comment to make, even though Magnus is clearly teasing. While it’s true that Alec is more than ready to follow Magnus to whichever part of the world he thinks Alec will enjoy seeing, it’s rare that Alec is the one suggesting where to go. Spain though – Alec has a considerable fondness for studying history and his mother’s ancestry can be traced back to the region of Andalusia some twenty-five, thirty generations back, before the Inquisition had resulted in them fleeing the country. To actually visit the coastal cities has been something of a vague, dormant interest for years. 

Leave it to Magnus to bring that desire roaring to life.

“Okay, to recap: we’ll start in Barcelona,” says Magnus. Alec is helplessly charmed when he draws an ‘x’ with a felt-tipped marker over the dot on the map labelling the city. “And then take the AP-7 to Valencia, where we’ll spend the night. After Valencia is Murcia, with a quick pit-stop between the two at the more _superior_ Alicante–” 

“Magnus, come on. There’s no way that Alicante is better than the one in Idris.”

“On the contrary, as the only one out of the two of us that’s been to both, I can assure yoummph–”

Magnus doesn’t get to assure Alec of anything except what an incredibly adaptive kisser he is, not missing a single beat in responding to Alec. He smiles into Alec’s mouth, drops the marker so his hands are free to grasp Alec’s shoulders. 

“Distracting me like this,” murmurs Magnus in between insistent presses of Alec’s lips, “isn’t going to make what I’m saying any less true, Alexander.”

“If you think I’m gonna take you shittalking my hometown lying down–”

“Oh, I think that’s _exactly_ what you’re going to do.” And Alec is a particularly weak-willed man when it comes to Magnus because he goes down without a fight when Magnus pushes him down, landing on the map of Spain with a laughing, ‘oof.’ “Alicante, comma, Idris, is the dullest, most lifeless city–”

“It’s beautiful and the height of modern engineering and architecture,” counters Alec, trying – but not very hard – to not be distracted by Magnus climbing on top of him. “It’s got the most comprehensive collection of–”

“–stuffy politicians and the saddest excuses of fashion boutiques–”

“–the Shadow World’s most priceless treasures and historical artifacts–”

“–no doubt unlawfully seized in a raid of some poor warlock’s lair–”

“–which have been set up for free public consumption in world class museums–”

“Oh, enough,” says Magnus, placing a finger on top of Alec’s lips. “We can have this debate after our trip, and I’ll be graciously accepting your admission that I was right all along.”

“I’ll _never_ –” and this time it’s Alec who doesn’t get to finish his sentence, cut-off by Magnus curving over his body and capturing his mouth into a deep, filthy kiss, fingers curling into Alec’s hair. It’s a very particular kiss that Alec’s gotten reacquainted with over the last few weeks, one that promises all sorts of things Alec doesn’t have time to collect right now. 

“Mm – Magnus – I’ve got–” Magnus bites at Alec’s collarbone, soothing the sting of it with his tongue. “I have to be back at the Institute in fifteen minutes–”

He reaches for Alec’s pants, pops open the button with his deft fingers. 

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before getting me all worked up. The thought of you driving down the Spanish coast in a GranTurismo, five hundred horses underneath your feet... I’m only a man, Alexander.”

“Are you–” Alec doesn’t believe this. “Are you imagining us in some stupidly expensive car right now?” 

“Mm hmm.” Magnus takes Alec into his hands and pulls him out. There’s something about the casual carelessness with which he’s handling Alec’s dick that has Alec biting his lip, holding back a mortifying sound. “It’s a convertible. I’m pretending to navigate using the GPS on my phone but I’m really just watching you drive. You’re wearing aviators and the wind is messing up your hair and the whole thing is really, _really_ doing something for me.”

At least Alec knows what his next purchase needs to be. 

“You’ve got enough time to see this fantasy through, then?”

“Thirteen minutes is plenty,” says Magnus, dismissively. “I think I’ll be done with you in less than five.”

“I thought sex was an _experience_ ,” says Alec, and if he sounds goading then – well, that _is_ his intention. He shudders when Magnus trails a finger up Alec’s half-hard cock, following the path of a vein. “Not just a race to the finish line.”

Magnus is kneeling between Alec’s drawn up legs, but his head pops back into view just long enough for Alec to see his narrowed eyes. 

“You’re playing with fire here, Alexander,” he warns, and anything Alec could’ve countered with is immediately lost in a moan when Magnus tugs him close by the hips and swallows him down into the heat of his mouth.

Goddamn, thinks Alec, eyes rolling back. Maybe it’s fine if he’s a little late getting back to the office.

-

 

The bite Magnus leaves on Alec’s hip serves as a welcome but distracting ache for the rest of the day. Alec’s excellent at compartmentalizing, so he still gets through everything he needs to get done – but the second he finishes anything that he’s mentally categorized as a ‘must-do’, his focus vanishes. Alec gets bored partway through an incident report that’s due to be archived this weekend. He’s already found three inconsistencies and he’s not even trying, so he puts it aside for tomorrow morning. Instead, he opens his laptop and pulls up the browser and starts reading reviews of hotels in Malaga. 

Lydia calls while Alec is in the middle of analyzing the price differences between waterfront views and something further into the city. 

“Alec,” she says, and it’s been over a year but Alec doesn’t think he’ll ever stop being surprised to be greeted with the warmth in her voice. “Do you have a minute?”

“Of course,” he says, bookmarking the page for the _Puente Romano_. “Is this a social call or business?”

“The two of us don’t really have time for many social calls, do we?” is Lydia’s wry response. “We should probably make the effort – but for better or for worse, business with the Clave will always keep us connected.”

“Probably better for me, and worse for you.” Four hundred euros a night. Vicious. 

“Let’s see if you still think that way after this conversation,” says Lydia grimly, and the ease that Alec usually feels in talking to her takes a back seat. He turns off his laptop. “Alec, are you aware that Raphael Santiago has been carrying out unlawful executions of vampires in New York?”

Alec stills. There is only one instance he knows of, but there is no way _Lydia_ would–

“That doesn’t sound like Santiago,” says Alec carefully. “He has strong values of justice.” 

“I mean, the supposed victim is a real piece of work,” says Lydia. “Benedict Whitmore. Finds kids and turns them.” Fuck, thinks Alec. “If these allegations are true, I would... follow the logic as to why he would think it _was_ justice to take care of this guy himself.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” repeats Alec, flatly. “My team’s the one that discovered those kids. And you’re saying he killed the guy who turned them. And what’s the Clave’s position on this?”

“There’s obviously no bright line test about this sort of thing,” says Lydia, sighing. “And in my opinion, I don’t think there’s a case against Santiago with that.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“The allegations against him aren’t just about executing the sire, Alec,” says Lydia. “It’s also about the missing children.”

Alec can already see where this is going. It’s nowhere good. 

“He’s–” Alec has to pause, heart hammering in his chest. He hopes Lydia thinks it’s him choking on some other emotion. “Lydia, I was there for the incident in Brooklyn. The sire – Whitmore – killed those fledglings when he saw they were with Santiago. Jace and I helped subdue him, and turned him over to Santiago to carry out whatever punishment he saw fit with a criminal from among his own people.” 

“I know all of that. I do read those reports, you know,” says Lydia. If this was any other situation, he’d say she sounded dryly amused. “No, Alec, I’m talking about the other kids.”

“What other kids?”

“There needs to be an investigation on that front,” says Lydia. “But the facts are that Whitmore has been turning kids for decades. Over the last few weeks, we’ve gathered enough intel from his time in Chicago, Baltimore, Miami, San Diego, Montreal – there’s a lot of them. The Chicago Institute has been building a case on Whitmore for years. All these children – there’s no sign of them anymore.”

Magnus and Raphael must have conducted their own investigation. Hopped around the country finding them and bringing those young vampires to wherever they are now.

“And you think Santiago killed them.” Unbelievable. Alec has another question– “Why wasn’t this brought to my attention until now?”

“It was an anonymous tip,” says Lydia. “We weren’t going to decide on an action plan until we were sure of the facts. But Alec – that’s why I’m calling you now. Santiago has been spotted by multiple eye-witnesses in the last month in all the locations Whitmore’s been active in. All his known safe-houses are empty. There’s enough evidence to hold him for questioning. The Clave’s putting together a task force to bring him in to Idris before sunset, and we’ll need your help coordinating.”

Sunset. Sunset’s in less than two hours. That’s not enough time for anything. 

Except, perhaps, to buy some more time.

“All right,” says Alec at last. “But I want to be part of the team. I think he’s a good man, and I don’t want to damage an important relationship for the city by accusing him of something like this without talking to him first, seeing if he wants to come in willingly – strictly to gather information. I want it to be clear that there are no charges against him at the present.”

“That sounds reasonable,” agrees Lydia. “And if Santiago’s not responsible for this, then he should have no problem answering the questions we have.”

Alec used to think in this way, until the disaster with the Inquisitor and her tracking chips last year. It’s not a matter of innocence and guilt – it’s a matter of being coerced into executing someone else’s agenda. What’s someone’s response supposed to be when they’re put in a position where saying one thing implicates you, and the other is to your accuser’s benefit? Alec doesn’t want something like that to be carried out in his Institute again. 

But even more than that – Alec doesn’t want Raphael in some holding cell in Idris. Lesser of two evils.

“He’ll have a problem if you insist on taking him to Idris,” says Alec. “Is there any way you can interview him here?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Lydia,” says Alec, picking up on her brief hesitation. “Give it to me straight. What’s really going on here? Why are you involved in this and why is there a _task force_ if the Clave hasn’t already decided there’s going to be charges?”

Here, Lydia pauses.

“You know I value our relationship, Alec,” she says at last. “And I... admire and support what you’re trying to do in New York. But everything is in a delicate balance right now, which is why I wanted to give you adequate warning. These vampire children... right now it looks like Santiago either killed them, or he knows where they are. If they’re dead, then there’ll be a trial.”

“And if they’re not?”

“If they’re not, then... there’ll still be a trial. We – the Clave – need to know what happened to them, Alec. Involvement of mundanes automatically makes this Clave jurisdiction, and it should have been reported immediately. Children of the Night is one thing but having them be _actual_ children... it’s dangerous to have them running amok.” 

“And these kids,” says Alec, trying for one last attempt. He doesn’t have high hopes for its success, so he starts composing a note for Raphael. “You’re sure they exist.”

“One of the only things we’re certain about, at this point.”

“And they’re not with anyone else.”

“First thing I did was reach out to every registered clan,” says Lydia, sounding tired. “It’s possible that they’re lying. We need to start with Santiago, Alec. The tip we received might’ve been anonymous, but there’s some circumstantial evidence to corroborate it. Depending on what we find from this investigation, we can start canvasing the other clans. Maybe even put in resources to tracking down rogue and unaffiliated vampires.” 

“That sounds like a political disaster,” says Alec, sending off the fire message. “But I get it.”

Lydia sighs. It could be in weariness or relief.

“I knew you would,” she says. “I’ll see you soon, then. And Alec – thank you for your help.”

“It’s why I’m here,” says Alec, and bids her goodbye. There’s that old guilt crawling up his throat again, knowing that there’s a very likely chance he’ll be getting in the way of Lydia trying to do her job. After everything she’s done for him. 

But the _kids_. 

It doesn’t help make the decision easier, but it strengthens Alec’s resolve.

Alec goes and searches for his mother. If there’s any way to make a potential arrest like this look legitimate, it’s to get Maryse Lightwood to execute it.

He finds her in the ops center.

“Mother.” Maryse looks up, questioning, and beckons her to the adjacent hallway, away from the bustling activity. 

“What is it?”

Alec doesn’t bother with any bullshit. “The Clave’s sending over a task force within the next couple hours. They want to bring in Raphael Santiago for questioning on an ongoing investigation. I need you to bring him to the Institute before they get here, and I need you to go right now.”

“All right,” says Maryse, brows furrowed. “Should I be taking a team, or is this going to be civil?”

“It’ll be civil,” says Alec. “This isn’t an arrest, but – we still need him to come with us.”

“Then why exactly do you think this is going to be civil?”

“Because I gave him a heads up about thirty seconds ago,” says Alec, “and he’s either not going to be at the DuMort or he’ll come peacefully.”

There’s a moment of ringing silence. 

“I’m sorry,” says Maryse, blinking rapidly. As though she can’t believe what she’s hearing. Alec’s not used to this kind of reaction from her when faced with an action of his she doesn’t approve of. Normally it’s immediate anger. Not – this. “You did what?”

“I need you to leave in the next five minutes.”

“Alec, you–” She shakes her head, as though to clear it. Her voice is low as she says, “Alec. No matter what you’re doing here, your primary obligation as a shadowhunter is to uphold the Law–”

“I’m not breaking the Law.”

“This is conspiracy and collusion against the Clave,” she hisses, eyes wide. “This is obstruction of justice. Alec, this could–”

“I know what this can do,” Alec interrupts her. “And this isn’t – this isn’t the first time something like this happened, all right?”

“You’ve done this _before?_ ”

“We can discuss the details later,” he says shortly. Or she could just go and ask Luke. “You said you believed in what we were trying to do here. That means to some degree you agree that the Law isn’t always justice. That sometimes the law is blind, but not in fairness. And if you don’t believe that, then – are you going to turn me in, Mother?” 

Maryse steps back, as though she’s been struck. “Of course not! How could you – I’m _worried_ about–”

“I don’t need your concern right now,” says Alec. “I need your trust, and your ability to carry out this order. The Clave wants Raphael brought in, and I’m assigning you as the person to do so. I want you in on this. Do you understand?”

Pursing her lips, Maryse says, “Yes, of course. You can count on me.”

The tension building in Alec’s shoulders doesn’t go away, but something inside him eases. “All right,” he says. “All right. I’ve got to take care of a couple things, but – I’ll see you in a bit.”

-

 

Twenty minutes later, Alec is at Magnus’ loft knocking on the door. 

“Alexander,” sighs Magnus, opening the door with a look that can only be described as deeply resigned while still being terribly sweet. “You really need to stop being so coy about accepting a key to this place.”

“I don’t think anyone would describe me as being _coy_ ,” says Alec, stepping inside and pausing just long enough to give Magnus his customary kiss hello. There’s hardly enough time to do anything else. “Magnus, there’s something happening at the Institute. Lydia’s coming in. The Clave has – some idea on what went down with that asshole vampire Raphael took care of. You need–”

“What?” asks Magnus. “Slow down. And start from the beginning.”

He takes Alec’s hand and leads him to the living room. He sits on the couch and gestures at Alec to join him, but Alec shakes his head in declination. There’s too much nervous energy in him right now.

Instead, he starts to pace.

“Someone somehow found out about what happened last month with that vampire and the kids,” Alec explains. “Anonymous tip. We’re lucky that it was Lydia who got tasked with this. The Clave’s been building a case for the last few week, figuring out what that guy – Whitmore – was up to. It looks like Raphael was spotted at the other cities you guys went to, to pick the rest of them up.” 

Magnus’ face grows more and more troubled the longer Alec speaks. The lightness in his gaze vanishes altogether when Alec finishes with the most vital, “They want to bring Raphael in to Idris for questioning.”

“Well,” says Magnus at last. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I know,” says Alec. “I asked Lydia if she can carry out whatever questions she has at the Institute.”

Magnus stills.

“You had him brought to the Institute?”

The way Magnus says it, his expression completely blank, has Alec’s hackles rising. It makes him aware that there’s something – there’s something shifting in this conversation. Alec doesn’t quite know what it is, doesn’t understand it – but he knows he doesn’t like it. 

“It’s not like that,” says Alec, the sentence coming out much more severe than he expected. “I sent him a fire message. A head start before I sent my mother to accompany him to the Institute. If he wants to go on the run then he can but – I don’t think he will. If the Clave’s coming after him, then they’re coming after him, Magnus. All going on the run will do is start a manhunt.”

The explanation doesn’t do anything to change the look on Magnus’ face.

“Alexander,” he says, sounding strangely formal. “Raphael... he’s not going to be safe at the Institute.” 

“He’ll be safer there than he will be in Idris,” says Alec. “He’ll be treated with respect. I’m going to be overseeing everything, and you know Lydia. She’s fair.”

It’s the only silver lining in this impending disaster. That Lydia will be the lead on what’s coming. That she respects Alec professionally, enough to give him a warning so he has the time for any necessary preparations. That she knows Alec personally, enough to know why this would be troubling for him.

But Magnus must disagree.

“Lydia may be fair when compared to the warped standards of the Clave, but any clout she has is only at the pleasure of the Inquisitor Herondale. The last time Raphael was at the Institute to be _questioned_ by the Clave, he was – he was tortured, Alexander. For information he didn’t have.” Magnus looks like he’s in complete disbelief. “Why didn’t you bring him here?”

“I just said – it would’ve started a manhunt. Running wouldn’t have solved anything.”

“Not right away,” says Magnus. “It’s not like Raphael’s always at the DuMort, he might just... not have been at home. We would have had the time to – regroup, to come up with a plan.”

“He was just in the city last night, it would be too suspicious. Magnus – I know how the Clave think.” Alec shakes his head. “It wouldn’t have been the right move. It’s not just Raphael, there are those kids in the picture too–”

“That wasn’t your call to make!” snaps Magnus, standing up. He is so agitated that he actually runs a hand through his impeccably styled hair. “Christ.”

Alec gapes at him. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that it was _yours?_ ”

“Maybe not, but – at least I don’t have another agenda. I’d put myself on the line for him without blinking, Alexander. Raphael is – he’s my _family_. He’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a son. And you just had him arrested for the Clave without a second thought?”

The words feel like a blow, as they are meant to. Alec has given this as much thought as he’s had the time to give. There are only four possible ways that this could have played out: 1) Raphael takes the opportunity Alec has given him to go on the run and gets himself on the wanted list, 2) Alec refuses to co-operate, gets himself taken out of the equation for his insubordination, and Raphael gets taken to Idris, 3) Raphael resists going with the Clave task force and some kind of power struggle erupts, or 4) what Alec had done, the best middle ground he could think of.

And if Alec has had any agenda throughout this whole process, it’s been to make sure that the least amount of damage takes place for the parties involved. He’d thought that Magnus would’ve–

Alec can’t finish the thought. 

“It _was_ my call,” he says at last. “And I didn’t arrest him, or turn him over to anyone.” 

“You sent a shadowhunter – a representative of our highly prejudiced law reinforcement – to go collect Raphael from his home and bring him over to be questioned at the Institute,” says Magnus. “What do you _think_ that is?”

“I had to make a decision quickly, and that’s what I did – and I did everything I could to make sure whatever this is gets carried out in a way that’s not completely stacked against him, like when Izzy was put on trial.” 

Alec can’t get started on the rest of it, all the ugly things about his character that’s being implied with every word Magnus is saying. He can’t put himself through that. Not right now.

“Magnus, I came here so that you’d know what was going on since you’re also involved with what happened and depending on which way this goes, you might have to be brought in.” 

“Raphael’s not going to throw me under the bus.”

“When did I say he would?” asks Alec, frustrated. “If they figure out there’s a warlock involved, it doesn’t take any huge leap of logic to draw a connection between the two of you. Lydia basically said there would be a trial no matter what, but once we know what exactly the charges are–”

“Then they’ll have him like a sitting duck at the Institute,” interrupts Magnus. His initial disbelief is slowly bleeding into anger. 

“He has allies there,” says Alec, stung. What’s Magnus trying to say? What has Alec been _doing_ all this time if not even Magnus can see that Alec’s trying to accomplish?

“They’re... they’re coming for him, Magnus. This was the only way I could make sure that whatever goes down – it’s under my control, at my Institute. My mother and Jace are with him. We have time to figure out what to do next. This was me protecting–”

“And who’ll protect him once the Clave comes after you?” demands Magnus. He looks like he’s barely holding himself together. “Your Institute’s barely under your control, Alec. Your shadowhunters are probably the ones who leaked this. Your father’s going to be able to shield you from any charges they throw at you – but when you’re under the equivalent of a luxurious house arrest in Idris, who’s going to protect Raphael from being cut up again by the likes of Aldertree?”

“Is this what you think?” asks Alec, fury and hurt combusting into something all-consuming and robbing Alec of his clarity. “That I’m some useless figurehead who’s going to hide behind the family name when everything blows up in my face? Magnus, if I got in trouble for this it wouldn’t be _house arrest_. And even if I got deruned, Izzy wouldn’t let–”

 _“Isabelle?_ You think I would entrust Raphael’s fate to – no.” Magnus seems to break out of his rage induced stillness and immediately he is a whirlwind, grabbing his jacket and summoning his phone, his keys. “No. The Lightwoods have done enough. You’ve done enough.” 

“Magnus,” says Alec, an uneasiness crawling up his spine. Being reduced to nothing but yet another Lightwood is never a good sign when it comes to Magnus. “That’s not fair.” 

Magnus stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to face Alec. The way he’s looking at Alec–

“Not fair? _Not fair?_ No, what’s not fair is Raphael being put under arrest for doing something good,” says Magnus. “What’s not fair is you helping facilitate that. What’s _not fair_ is what’s happening under the roof of your Institute. How can you – how can you not see that this isn’t going to end well?”

“I _can_ see it,” says Alec, frustration building in his chest. “How can _you_ not see that everything I’ve done is to make sure that doesn’t happen, that everyone comes out of it intact–”

“You’re making it sound like this is inevitable,” says Magnus. “As though we couldn’t fight it.”

“Fight what? Right now, all this is officially is that the Clave is asking the head of a prominent New York clan some questions on another ongoing investigation. If he refuses, it’ll just make him look like he’s got something to hide, and they’ll pile on some other charge for obstruction–”

“Stop,” interrupts Magnus. His hands are clenched in tight fists. “Stop – rationalizing. You always rationalize the Clave’s decree.”

“ _What?_ ” That’s just – Alec has spent the last year doing everything he can to change things. From the second the Inquisitor came to the Institute and Alec’s eyes were opened to what was happening around him, he never once even _wanted_ to look the other way. “Magnus, that’s bullshit, you _know_ that’s absolute bullshit. I’m not trying to justify or rationalize anything. You’re not thinking clearly. You’re – you’re being emotional–”

Even as the words leave Alec’s mouth – even as he _means_ it – he knows it’s the wrong thing to say. Alec can physically see the fire kindle to life in Magnus’ eyes.

“ _Emotional?_ ” says Magnus, livid. “Of course I’m emotional. Raphael’s about to go on trial, one he’s almost completely guaranteed to lose. You can’t even see what you’re doing right now – you’re still carrying out orders without thinking of the effects on people like–”

Magnus cuts himself off, but Alec’s not having it.

“People like what?” asks Alec sharply. “People like you and Raphael? You think I don’t give a fuck about the two of you?”

“That’s not what I said.” 

“That’s what you _meant_ ,” says Alec, and underneath his furiousness there’s a stab of something else. Sharper and deeper. More hollow. After everything they’ve been though, Alec has always been another Lightwood. “You think that I’d rather carry out what they say than do the right thing.”

Magnus purses his lips.

And because Alec’s a glutton for punishment, he coldly goes, “Say it. Don’t hold yourself back now. What’re you thinking, huh? That this wouldn’t be the first time? That we’ve had this argument before?”

“You’re the one saying it.” 

“And you’re the one agreeing with it.” 

“Drop it, Alexander.” There’s warning in his voice.

Of course Magnus wouldn’t correct Alec, assure him that this was different. Why would he when as far as Magnus is concerned, Alec is saying the truth? 

For one, horrible moment neither of them speak. _Say something,_ thinks Alec, and even in his mind he sounds pleading. He wants Magnus to be able to read his thoughts and somehow, simultaneously, doesn’t want Magnus near them at all. _Say that this is different. That this isn’t–_

“This was – this wasn’t the right call, Alec,” says Magnus, at last. “Not for Raphael, not for the sanctuary he’s put himself at risk to build. And I’m going to do what it takes to make sure this doesn’t end with him getting thrown under the sun of you beautiful Alicante.”

Alec barely stops himself from flinching. He’d forgotten how lethal Magnus could be when he wanted to. Each word carefully chosen for maximum impact. Magnus might be upset, but it doesn’t mean that he isn’t being honest with what he is saying. It just means that it’s coming out because of the situation. Because he’s upset. The only thing different between things said in anger and things said in calmness is the manner of delivery. Alec knows this better than most.

“I don’t expect your help with this. I don’t expect you to understand.” Magnus’ voice is so even and calm that it robs Alec of whatever it is that he had been planning to say. Robs him of his fire. What’s that supposed to mean? But before Alec can ask, Magnus is already moving. “I can’t spend more time arguing about this. I – I have to go. I have to make preparations.” 

A portal finally opens behind Magnus, and he starts toward it. Alec can’t make sense of why this is happening. Not when it’s as clear as day to Alec that they want the same thing. Even if Alec doesn’t have the filial connection to Raphael that Magnus does, Alec still wants him to be treated justly by the Law. To be protected from the loopholes in it.

“Magnus!” He has to shout this, in any hope to be heard over the sound of storming winds. Alec can’t have Magnus walk away from him thinking – whatever it is that he’s thinking. Alec can’t have him walk away without figuring this out.

Alec – Alec can’t have him walk away. 

“Magnus – we’re not done talking about this!”

The look he gives Alec – it’s been directed at him his entire life. Not just from Magnus, even though he’s the one of the ones Alec has invoked this in the most. Alec is very, very familiar with what it’s like to be looked at with disappointment.

“Yes, we are,” says Magnus, and there is a finality to his words. “We’re done talking. You can show yourself out, Alexander. Go and do what you need to to appease your Clave delegates.”

With that Magnus goes, the portal closing behind him.

The stillness and the silence left behind without Magnus and his windstorm of a portal matches the unnatural stillness of Alec’s body, the unexpected silence in his head.

It occurs to Alec that this is the first time Alec has been alone in the loft without Magnus here. Right now he’s the only living being in this huge, oppressive space. Alec walks over to the sofa Magnus vacated almost in a daze, and when he reaches it, he doesn’t just sit – he collapses into the cushions. Alec closes his burning eyes, presses the heels of his palms against them. He tries to get his heart back to a resting pace.

It doesn’t work. _What just happened,_ he thinks, but even the thought seems far away, lost between the constriction of Alec’s chest and the thundering of his pulse against his ears. 

The last time Alec had a thought like this while watching Magnus walk away, it took Magnus half a year to turn back around and look at him again.

But this is different. Alec has to tell himself this. Other than the parts that are exactly the same – like the conversation he’s having with himself right now, the frantic quality of his suddenly racing thoughts as he tries to convince himself of something that he knows to be true in his bones even as his head and heart refuse to accept it – this is completely different. People don’t remember the thousands of streetlights they pass that work perfectly fine. They only remember the one time it flickered at the exact moment they walked by, and that’s what Alec’s brain is doing right now. It’s basic psychology.

Knowing that doesn’t stop Alec’s hands from shaking. He grips his knees, hard, to stop it. 

_We do want the same thing,_ Magnus had told him, when they’d gotten back together, so many months ago, now. _So there isn’t a choice to be made._

Except there is a choice and it’s not just one streetlight, is it? Not between the two of them. Magnus hadn’t been completely wrong when he had said that Alec had another agenda, but the way Alec has always looked at it is that he has other _constraints_. Alec’s priority is to make sure that Raphael gets through this while still navigating – mostly – within the Law because he can’t see the benefit of breaking it, not as clearly as he did when he’d falsified the report related to the Whitmore incident. 

Magnus’ priority is to make sure Raphael gets through this. A minute difference in Alec’s eyes, insurmountable in Magnus’.

Alec wonders how it had taken him until this very moment to truly understand he never had a chance. All these months he had still hoped. The barest, most warily regarded flicker of it, but – hope nonetheless. 

That had just been unimaginably stupid. It had been a losing a battle for Alec, trying to be something he wasn’t. Trying to be someone who Magnus understood, trusted, gave the benefit of the doubt. None of those can be possible if Alec fundamentally thinks differently than Magnus does, and trying his fucking best hadn’t been able to make up for it. And when trying to bridge the gap between two mountains, it doesn’t matter if you miss by an inch or you miss by a mile – the second you miss the mark, the end result is exactly the same. 

Alec gives himself five minutes to breathe. After those five minutes are up, he texts, _Raphael’s interview is going to be in a couple hours_ and puts away his phone. He doesn’t expect a response back.

Afterward, Alec shows himself out. At least he doesn’t have to wonder when the other shoe is going to drop, anymore. But there’s no relief as he steps to rejoin the waiting world. Only a hollow heartache, and the beginning of an unbearable grief.

-

 

With Magnus, there are certain moments Alec always goes back to.

The kiss at the wedding, marking the single most pivotal point in Alec’s life. Not because it had been his first kiss, but because it had been _Magnus_ – providing one more chance for Alec to give in to his heart by putting his own on the line. Alec doesn’t know if they know it, but Magnus and Lydia had probably saved Alec’s life that day. Saved him from a loneliness that even the strongest of warriors have lost the battle against, and Alec – Alec is not one of those greats. He’s just a man. And back then, he’d been a deeply unhappy man. That man couldn’t have known what kind of joy would await him. What kind of joy he would lose.

The end of their first date. _That_ Alec had known, even if he hadn’t realized it yet, what exactly Magnus was. It’s what pulled him back from the door and back toward Magnus’ tentative, vulnerable silence. Maybe we’re too different, Alec had said, and looking back at it now – it’s almost ludicrous, how prophetic those words had been, but not in the way Alec had been thinking of back then. 

The photobooth in Tokyo, finding it impossible to _not_ smile with Magnus whispering in his ear. The morning after they slept together for that first time, the way Magnus’ eyes had been wide with disappointment when he thought Alec would leave. Finding comfort in Magnus after the events at Max’s rune ceremony. Providing comfort to Magnus after he revealed the truth about his step-father to Alec. Magnus sweeping away the clouds for in Banff so Alec could bask in the sunlight. The wooden beads of a bracelet that not only contains Magnus’ magic but also Magnus’ love, working in tandem to keep Alec safe from harm. 

But today, as Alec whips across Brooklyn back to the Institute relying on nothing but his muscle memory, he can’t think back further than this morning. 

_We’ll spend the night in Valencia,_ Magnus had said. _You’re wearing aviators. The wind’s messing up your hair._

It had been so clear in Alec’s head. The sun burning in the bright blue sky and Magnus glowing underneath its golden rays, feet buried in the sand. Moving away from the beaches to the hillsides of Granada. Exploring the roped off areas of Castillo de Colomares and stealing deep, lingering kisses in the shadowed alcoves. Convince Magnus into spending a day at Lagunas de Ruidera on the drive back to Madrid. Let Magnus coax him into enjoying the nightlife during the weekend they’ll spend in the city. 

Unreal. It’s unreal to think that that had just been this morning. Planning for a trip six months in advance. 

What a fucking joke, Alec thinks. All the good memories they had built together the first time, the ferocity with which he’d loved Magnus – if that hadn’t been enough back then, then Alec is a fool for tricking himself into believing that it would be any different this time around. But the anger and helplessness he feels for letting himself get blindsided like this isn’t enough to stifle the grief. As is the case with any kind of loss, knowing that it was only a matter of time hadn’t made it any easier when it finally came to pass. It hadn’t made Alec love Magnus any less. 

If only that had been a factor in all of this. It hadn’t been before, and it’s not like he expected it to be now, but. It still a knockout punch to remember it each time. That love means different things to different people. Alec never did find out what Magnus meant when he said he loved Alec. The only piece of it that Alec had been certain of was what it _didn’t_ mean: loving Alec didn’t mean that he would stay. It didn’t mean they wanted the same thing, no matter how certain Alec had been that they did.

And Magnus had made it very, very clear that that’s the only thing that had been preventing him from making a choice. One where Alec isn’t – can’t be – the option he selects. 

When Alec arrives back at the Institute, his skin is cold from the crisp October wind. He stares at the closed door to his office and thinks, _Raphael is in there. He needs you to be on top of your game. Lydia’s coming in an hour._

_And you’re fine,_ He swallows down the lump in his throat, straightens his shoulders, and takes one long, rattling breath. _You’re fine. Your head and hands and feet all still work. You don’t have an excuse. You have a job to do. You’re fine._

Alec steps inside his office to be greeted by his mother, sister, and parabatai having a hushed argument while Raphael sits behind Alec’s desk, staring exasperatedly up at the ceiling. It becomes abruptly silent the second they see him.

“Get out of my chair,” says Alec, glaring at Raphael. 

“I don’t think so,” replies Raphael blandly. “I haven’t had very pleasant experiences sitting on the other side of this table.”

“Then you can stand,” Alec bites out. “Move.”

Raphael sighs in a manner as though to say _Alec_ is being unreasonable, but he gets up nonetheless to join the cluster of shadowhunters. 

It takes Alec another second to join the four of them. His heart is still racing and the deep, even breaths are very slow in taking effect. 

“Alec,” says Izzy, voice tense. “What the hell is going on? Why is Raphael here? Why’s the _Clave_ sending people to the Institute again?”

“The Clave’s coming here because Raphael might be able to help them with a current investigation,” says Alec, a succinct and truthful answer. “The details are currently classified.”

“Except to Mom and Jace,” she points out. “Don’t think I didn’t notice they’re hanging around like they’re protective detail.”

“Isabelle,” says Raphael, voice gentle, and Alec has to consciously tamp down the instinctive flare of anger to hear him talk to Izzy. Most of the time Alec can ignore what happened, but right now Alec’s already frayed at the edges. A year’s not nearly long enough for him to forget. “Everything is fine, right now. The Clave’s looking into an unaffiliated vampire who was recently in New York that I dealt with. They want to consult me on some of the illegal activities he’s been involved with.”

Izzy’s expression softens somewhat, but she’s still determined. “If that was it, then everyone wouldn’t be acting so shady right now.”

“Alec,” says Maryse, frowning down at her phone. “The Secretary from the Inquisitor’s office just sent the official communication. They’ll be here in thirty minutes. The portal from Alicante will open at the annex off the front foyer.”

Thirty minutes.

“All right,” says Alec. “I need to talk to Raphael before they get here.”

“Alec,” snaps Izzy. “This isn’t–”

“I promise, the second you need to get involved with this, I’m going to bring you in,” says Alec. “But until then, I need you to go. You and Mom need to be ready to receive the task force. Jace–”

“Don’t even need to say it, pal,” says Jace, clapping Alec’s shoulder. “All right, everyone, let’s get to our designated positions while I send a casual email to my grandma to see if she’s going to visit.”

Maryse hesitates, hanging back as Jace annoys Izzy out of the room. She places a tentative hand on Alec’s arm and says, quietly, “Alec... where did you just go?”

“Nowhere,” says Alec, terse. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re freezing. Your hands are shaking.”

Alec glances down and finds this to be true. He also finds Magnus’ bracelet. The weight of it feels like a manacle around his wrist. _For you, it’s a gift,_ Magnus had said, and Alec is gripped with something so awful that it’s all he can do to not rip it off his hands and throw it out. 

Instead he slides it off carefully and shoves it into his pocket. Alec never wanted gifts from Magnus. He only ever wanted one thing.

“I’m fine,” he says. The way his mother is looking at him – she hasn’t looked at Alec like this since Alec had gotten a concussion at age six, having fallen off one of the high beams during one of his exercises for balance and stability. 

She’s looking at him as though he is a child. 

“Mother,” says Alec, voice clipped. “Please go with Izzy.” 

“Alec–”

Alec interrupts, voice firm, “Duty first. You taught me that. Don’t concern yourself with this.”

Maryse looks like she’s been hit. Alec’s fucking sick of himself. How did he become this person in the last twenty minutes? There’s a moment during which neither of them move, and then she purses her lips and walks out of the room without another word. 

Alec watches her go. Guilt is just one more thing he has to push aside for now. 

-

 

With everyone finally out, Alec locks the door and activates the six modified soundless runes he has seared on every wall, floor, and ceiling of his office. 

“Should I be feeling disrespected that the Head of the Institute wasn’t here to greet me when I arrived?” asks Raphael, once the last of the runes are glowing satisfactorily. He’s sitting at the edge of Alec’s desk, more of a lean than anything.

“I went to see Magnus,” says Alec shortly, which isn’t an excuse but an explanation.

Raphael raises his eyebrows. “And how did that go?”

“It doesn’t matter,” says Alec tightly, because it doesn’t. It’s not going to change what Alec is going to do, what Alec _has_ to do. “What matters is what the strategy is here to protect the existence of that sanctuary.”

“It matters if some... disagreement between you two will be throwing you off your game,” says Raphael, eyes narrowed. “As much as it pains me to say this, I’m going to need your support to get through this ordeal. I need your head to be clear.”

“You’ll get both those things,” says Alec. There’s a bitterness that threatens to choke him when he continues, “I’m on your side.”

“I figured that out when I got your fire message,” says Raphael dryly. “But good to hear it, nonetheless. All right, what do I need to know?”

He brings Raphael up to speed on all the details he hadn’t had the time to write down in the initial fire message: the anonymous tip, the discovery of the children, how Raphael had been connected. Despite the ache that seems to have spread even further from his chest, relaying these facts helps bring back control over his thoughts Alec had been trying to get a grip on. 

It’s a relief. At least his mind is still in one piece.

“It would’ve been helpful,” finishes Alec, “if you’d let me know that there were other kids. That you and Magnus went and gathered them.”

“You didn’t need to know then,” says Raphael, unmoved.

“As it turns out, I did.”

Raphael ignores this.

“But you believe that I didn’t kill those other children,” he says instead. He looks at Alec, considering. “Even though you’ve never seen the haven and never will. Even though this whole thing could be some fiction Magnus and I put together to ease your mind while we went and did what had to be done. Many would consider it a kindness to just put an end to their lives, save them from this desolate existence.”

“Yes, I believe you,” says Alec. “I make my decisions based on facts, Raphael. I saw you with those kids. I think I understand your character, your motives. If I’m wrong about this, I’m wrong, but as far as I’m concerned – you didn’t kill those kids. You have your reasons for trying to keep where they are a secret, and I agree with those reasons. So when this trial takes place, I’m going to help you in every way I can.”

“And that’s why you brought me here.”

“Yes,” says Alec.

“I just have one question,” says Raphael. “If at this stage there really is no charges against me, and this is the Clave asking respectfully for my help–”

“Well,” says Alec. “Let’s not go that far. They have firsthand accounts and security footage of you near Whitmore’s safehouses. Just because I believe you doesn’t mean the Clave won’t need an explanation.”

“Admittedly, I should have been more careful and not have let myself be distracted by my... emotional response when my interrogation of Whitmore revealed the existence of the other children.” 

Alec doesn’t know what to say to that, but Raphael doesn’t seem to be looking for any particular response. Clearing his throat, Alec asks, “What’s your question?”

“Ah, yes,” says Raphael. “Why insist on bringing me to the Institute?”

“I didn’t think it would be a good idea to have you go to Idris,” says Alec, frowning. “But if you disagree–”

“You misunderstand me,” interrupts Raphael. “I meant, why not negotiate to have this meeting at the DuMort? Despite you and I knowing that this is just a means to formalize a charge, officially this is nothing but an interview. Why not use it as an opportunity for the New York Institute to extend a hand in respect, where I would have my clan’s presence as support?”

“I–” Alec stops, bewildered. That – that makes perfect sense. Not only would it have ensured that Raphael was among his people, it would have been an excellent sign for the downworld community because it wouldn’t just be the Institute, it would be the _Clave_ going into a vampire clan’s territory in order to show leniency and flexibility and respect. 

Alec is a fool for not having thought of it himself. Just having heard it, it seems like such an obvious course of action. There’s nothing Alec can say to that except the truth, which is–

“I apologize. It – it genuinely didn’t occur to me as an option.” 

“I see,” says Raphael. He doesn’t seem too put out about it. “Well, what’s done is done. I see what you were thinking. I suppose there’s some merit in assuming I’d end up here no matter what, once the charges were formally applied.”

“That’s not an excuse,” says Alec severely. “There’s still time for that. Lydia – Prosecutor Branwell – is a reasonable person. I’m sure we can–”

“Relax, Lightwood,” says Raphael, giving Alec a look that clearly communicates that Alec’s getting worked up over the wrong thing. “I’m already here and nobody died. Yet. It could have been worse, and we need to actually decide what we’re going to do once your prosecutor gets here.”

Right. Priorities.

“All right,” says Alec. “I think there’s two pieces to it. First, we need to figure out what the exact nature of the crimes are they want to charge you with. Lydia will probably formalize it after the interview. At that point you’ll be taken to the Silent City, and have to choose an advocate – I’m pretty sure Jace can convince the Inquisitor to have the trial here instead of having to go to Alicante. The second, perhaps more importantly, we need to figure out what the story is with the children.”

“Agree,” says Raphael, nodding. He finally stands up from where he had been leaning against Alec’s desk, walks over to Alec and says, “And will you be my advocate for this trial?”

Alec freezes. He couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

“I said, are you willing to–”

“I heard what you said,” says Alec. “It just didn’t make any sense.”

“Why not?”

“Because despite having studied the Law inside out, I don’t actually have any experience in court. You shouldn’t – you should select Magnus.” 

Alec ignores the way his tongue feels heavy, uncertain in his mouth at having to say Magnus’ name. He thought he was done with this. A stupid thing to think, when all of Alec is tied up in the man. He can’t even talk about representing someone in court without thinking of Magnus putting himself on the line for Alec’s sister. No other intentions other than it was the right thing to do, despite his attempts to convince Alec otherwise.

Unlike Alec, who has too many other things pulling at him to be able to keep his intentions pure. 

“Come on, Raphael. It’s – it’s the obvious choice.”

“Magnus _is_ excellent at this type of thing,” agrees Raphael. “But I want the Head of the New York Institute. I want a shadowhunter. I want a _Lightwood_ representing my interests to the Clave.”

Something is happening here that Alec isn’t understanding. Alec might be all three of those things, but Raphael knows full well that Alec’s name and position is something that means very little to the Clave right now. Will probably mean very little for a long time. Not until votes are casted by those like Aline and Lydia and Jace, if he ever assumes his position in Idris.

Very carefully, Alec says, “If you want me to do this, then I accept. But you need to give it to me straight. You and I both know that all those reasons you mentioned – it doesn’t mean anything in Idris right now. Why don’t you want Magnus representing you?”

Looking deeply uncomfortable, Raphael reluctantly admits, “Because in the off chance that this doesn’t work out, I don’t want this on his conscience.”

“Ah,” says Alec, nodding. That makes more sense. “You know he’s not going to forgive me if this goes sideways.”

“Of course he will,” says Raphael. He sounds so dismissive that Alec has to raise his eyebrows in question. “You forgave him for the situation surrounding the Mortal Cup and Isabelle’s trial.”

Alec hates each and every reminder of the strange, inexplicable, and undefinable closeness between Raphael and Izzy. He doesn’t understand their relationship and doesn’t want to, and as always, it takes an effort to put it aside.

“Magnus defended Izzy in court when he had no incentive to do so,” he says carefully. “When he had every incentive _not_ to, but went ahead anyway because he cares about doing the right thing. And I’m never going to be able to do enough to repay him.”

Raphael open his mouth to respond, as though to contradict Alec, but then stops himself. 

Alec frowns. “What?”

“Nothing,” says Raphael. “Either way, I don’t give a shit about your feelings. I only care about your ability to execute. But I need you to be sure about this, Lightwood. This is bigger than you and me. You can’t let any of our personal grievances get in the way.”

Alec narrows his eyes. “This is an interesting time to bring that up, since I haven’t let any personal grievances get in the way of our working relationship before.” 

“Never hurts to double check.”

“Raphael,” says Alec, getting tired of this. “You know I’m going to do my damn best with this, so what’re you trying prove? What exactly is your plan here?”

Raphael takes a moment before responding.

“Do you know why I came today, Lightwood?” he asks. “Why I didn’t run?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” Alec sounds apathetic, but he’s curious. He had thought Raphael wouldn’t because of what Alec knows of his character, but the specifics of it – Alec has no idea what Raphael was thinking.

“I think it’s only a matter of time before there is some kind of... violent revolution,” says Raphael. “For downworlders to truly get back the power they’re missing in their day to day lives. Months, years, decades – who knows? And I’ll be at the forefront of that battle. But until that happens, I still need to take care of my people. And I want to use this... unforeseen opportunity to set a precedent.”

“A precedent,” repeats Alec. 

“When this goes to trial, and when we win, I want the results to make it very, very clear that vampires are more than capable of governing after our own – and that there is no risk here that I wouldn’t have been able to handle. I want it clear that this whole farce in wanting to know the whereabouts of the children is nothing but a means to keep a tighter rein on us – and with no legitimate risk, it’s something that they should never have pursued in the first place.”

“So you want the existence of this sanctuary to become known,” says Alec, trying to connect yhe disjointed pieces of Raphael’s little speech. “Because... you want them to have whatever protection the Law provides if you need it. But you don’t want to reveal the location because it’s your jurisdiction, and you want this trial to make the definition of what constitutes Clave involvement clearer. Narrower.”

Raphael looks pleased. “Very good.”

Alec can feel a headache coming, and he resists the urge to rub his temples. “This is a hell of a thing you’re taking on, Raphael.”

“You mean a hell of a thing _you’re_ taking on,” says Raphael mildly. “You can’t afford to fuck this up, Lightwood. Despite being aware of the consequences, I would prefer not to die a martyr for this cause.”

“You won’t,” says Alec. He feels a calm settle around him. They have a plan, and there’s a sharpness to Alec’s focus. A clarity. Alec has always been able to push aside the constant disaster of his personal life to get the job done. Perhaps the timing of this is even a blessing. Nothing quite like keeping a political leader out of prison to avoid thinking about his own heartbreak.

Though there might be no way to avoid it. It’s a good thing Alec’s used to facing staring Magnus right in the eyes while trying to keep the outside world from turning into the ashes that the world inside of Alec had become. But it’s fine. Alec had done this once before, and he’d be able to do it again. Live through one of the worst parts of his life one more time. 

Even as he thinks this, sorrow threatens to overtake him. Exhaustion, knowing what’s coming. 

With a dry throat, Alec asks, “Who do you want me to conscript in this?”

“Magnus, Garroway, your Herondale parabatai,” responds Raphael. Alec rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother hiding it. Raphael obviously knows Jace’s name, but Alec can appreciate the point he’s trying to make. “And as far as your other shadowhunters go – I’ll leave that to your judgment. Though please, Lightwood, do exercise some caution. I don’t need a disaster like Jace’s evil twin getting in the way of this.”

“Fray’s evil twin,” corrects Alec. He frowns, realizing he hasn’t yet had the chance to assign someone to investigate the other part of this mess with Raphael. “And I’ll probably put her in charge of figuring out where from the Institute this leak came from.”

Raphael frowns. “What leak?”

“The anonymous tip about you killing Whitmore.”

“Ah, that,” says Raphael, relaxing. “Don’t bother. I can assure you it didn’t come from within the Institute.”

Alec starts, “What d'you–” and then he stops, when an outrageous, ludicrous, perfectly plausible thought occurs to him. “No.”

Raphael doesn’t say anything.

“Are you kidding me?” yells Alec. Fury momentarily takes over his capacity for rational thought. Just a second ago, Alec had been impressed and chastened by Raphael’s grace, by how quickly he put together the best case scenario for this shitty turn of luck and– “Are you – are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Calm down,” says Raphael. “This was a calculated risk where I’m the only one in the crossfire. I did what had to–”

“I’m _not_ going to calm down.” Alec can’t believe this. He can barely speak. Everything that happened in the last hour – burdening his mother with the knowledge of Alec’s loose history with the Law, having his heart crushed again in Magnus’ loft and losing the best thing to happen to him for a second time – to find out that all of that had been because of something Raphael had set into motion himself – and Alec’s not even the one who’s truly at risk. “It’s _not_ just about you – you took responsibility for those kids, and if this gamble of yours–”

“I will remind you,” says Raphael icily, “that I’ve been taking care of these children since before you were born. I’m doing this for them.”

“I thought this was to set a _precedent_.” The sheer nerve – the _gall_ it takes to do something like this–

“This might shock you and your black and white view of the world, Lightwood,” says Raphael, “but it _is_ possible to have multiple motives behind a single action without them being necessarily contradicting.” 

Alec can’t quite stop himself from barking out a short, unhappy laugh. As though Alec hasn’t been living the reality of trying to achieve multiple things, fulfill multiple responsibilities simultaneously all his life. Look at where it’s gotten him. Who knows where this kind of risk will bring Raphael?

Raphael frowns. “What’s wrong with y–”

He’s interrupted by a knock on the door. 

Alec glances down at his watch, “They’re here.”

Another knock. 

“Lightwood,” says Raphael warningly. 

Alec takes a deep, calming breath. Nothing has actually changed from Raphael’s revelation. There’s still going to be a trial, the Clave still has its agenda, Raphael could still be jailed or executed, and Alec still has the responsibility of being his advocate in court.

And no matter how much Alec wishes to find some external reason to point at for why Magnus can’t stand to look at him – there isn’t one. Certainly not Raphael. Everything that happened is on Alec, as it always has been.

Still, he flatly says, “You’re a fucking piece of work,” to Raphael before heading to the door. Waiting on the other side is Lydia, and the four member team that must make up her task force.

“Good to see you again, Alec,” she says, and Alec shakes her proffered hand. She then steps inside and turns to Raphael, offering him the same courtesy. 

Raphael accepts. 

“And you must be Raphael Santiago, leader of the DuMort Clan. Thank you for coming in today.”

“Of course,” says Raphael pleasantly. “Shall we get started?”

-

 

The whole exercise takes three hours. Lydia is thorough in her questions, and Raphael doesn’t look away from her once as he answers. Alec’s anxiety skyrockets the second Lydia asks, “And what happened to the children Whitmore turned?” and Raphael unsmilingly answers, “They’re somewhere safe.”

“Children lack control over their impulses. They don’t have an understanding of the Law. How are mundanes and other shadow creatures kept safe from them?”

“There are no creatures around them except other vampires.”

“And how can the Clave verify this?”

“You can’t.”

It’s the kind of succinct answer that would’ve been provocative if anyone but Lydia had been running the show. As it is, Lydia just raises her eyebrows and continues with her questions, and at the end of it Raphael is charged with murder or kidnapping of the missing children (pending trial), withholding information which compromises the safety of the state, and obstruction of justice for impeding a Clave investigation. 

Afterward, on the walk back from escorting Raphael to the Silent City, she asks Alec, “Did you know he was going to name you to be his advocate?”

“Yes,” admits Alec, finding no reason to hide this. “Right before you got here.”

“By the angel, Alec,” sighs Lydia. “You know I have to do my job. This isn’t going to be easy for you. The Inquisitor wants this to go a certain way and it _will_. The Law–”

She cuts herself off, and when Alec looks ahead to see what caught her attention – he feels the blood freeze in his veins. Because it’s Magnus, waiting outside his office. The look on his face is unreadable and something cold settles in Alec’s stomach at how familiar the sight is. How unwelcome.

So this is how it’s going to be. 

“Magnus!” greets Lydia. Alec startles at her cheery tone, but then remembers – everything else aside, Magnus is one of Lydia’s heroes. “Good to see you again.”

“And you, Lydia,” Magnus manages to respond, forcing a smile. “I hear you’re overseeing the case with Raphael Santiago?”

“I am,” she says. “It’s – it’s not going to be fun, but I’m going to make sure that the trial proceeds fairly. I’ll have to count on you though to point out where exactly the Law might need a more creative interpretation.”

Lydia says this last bit jokingly, warmly, but the brightness on her expression fades when it takes Magnus much too long to respond because he’s busy trying not to glare at Alec. “I’ll try my best.”

“Right,” says Lydia, gaze flickering between Alec and Magnus and back again. “Well, I should get going. The Inquisitor will be arriving in a couple days. See you around, Magnus. I’m sure you’ll be there to support Alec in court.”

She waves goodbye to them both, and Magnus doesn’t wait any time. In a low, urgent voice, he asks, “What did she mean that I’ll see you in court?”

Alec feels his jaw tense. “Raphael appointed me as his advocate.”

Silence. And then–

“I see,” says Magnus, but from the way he’s frowning – Alec thinks that Magnus, in fact, doesn’t see whatever it is that he expected to. 

“I’ll get Jace to escort you to the Silent City if you want to visit,” says Alec, pulling out his phone to do just that as he walks into his office. He can’t look at Magnus just now. “You two can talk freely in front of him. Jace managed to get the trial to take place at the Institute.” 

Following Alec inside and shutting the door behind him, Magnus asks, “How’d he manage that?”

“By asking his grandmother,” says Alec. He puts away his phone and starts toward the shelves lining the walls. This is as good a place to start as any to gather materials for Raphael’s case, he thinks, trying to ignore the fact that his hands have started to shake again. It had taken him far too long to simply type that message to Jace. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. You can wait wherever you want.”

Magnus doesn’t respond right away, and the silence that falls between in the room is so tense that Alec feels the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up from his awareness of it. Alec is far too aware of too many things right now: the sharp pitch in his ears, the way the titles of the books blur together. How he knows, without turning around, exactly where Magnus is standing. The careful, hesitant steps Magnus takes toward him.

And yet it’s still a cold, unexpected shock when Magnus places a hand on Alec’s shoulder.

Alec jerks away. “What are you doing?”

“...Okay,” says Magnus, looking startled at Alec’s violent retreat away from him. “I see that you’re still angry. Alexander, I know that we – we said a lot of things today in that anger. Things we didn’t mean, that we shouldn’t have. Maybe we said some things that we _did_ mean, but shouldn’t have – shouldn’t have said it how we did.” The expression on his face says that he’s remembering every word exchanged between them. “You were right that we haven’t finished talking about that.”

“I’m not angry.” Alec wishes he was angry. “There’s nothing to talk about from before. We need to focus on–”

“Alexander, come on,” says Magnus. He sounds exasperated, like he’s barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes, and it’s like taking a flame to the powder keg inside of Alec. 

Fine. Maybe Alec’s starting to get angry _now_.

“We need to focus on the case,” repeats Alec. He goes to stand behind his desk but doesn’t sit down – he grips the backrest of the chair for anchor, a way to keep his fingers from trembling. “I’m going to go to the library. If you manage to get Raphael to change his mind and he reselects you as his representative, then I still want to help. I’ll ask my mom to take over official duties during–”

“Slow down,” says Magnus, frowning. “Why would I convince Raphael to change his mind?”

Is Magnus really going to make Alec say it?

“Because... you think that I’m not acting in his best interests,” says Alec slowly. The words are shards of glass in his mouth, and _Magnus_ has no right to look like that, as though Alec’s words are a cruel blow. “And you were right in what you said before. I had another agenda. I didn’t want to impede the Clave’s investigation because I still think it would’ve been useless. But I should’ve brought him over to you so there was more time to prepare. We should’ve brought Lydia to the DuMort, so he’d have the full support of his clan if things went sideways – instead of bringing him here, where there’s a fifty-fifty chance that anyone who sees him would rather have him staked than walking around in the Institute.”

“Alexander,” says Magnus, shaking his head. “That’s not–”

“That’s exactly how it is,” interrupts Alec. Where the fuck was Jace? It shouldn’t take this long to get here even if he was at the other end of the Institute. “You were right when you said before that there’s nothing left to discuss. So let’s not make this even harder than it has to be.”

Magnus is looking at Alec as though he doesn’t recognize him. He looks confused, at the edges of distress. There’s no hardness to his eyes, however – none of the cold fury, the disgust that made it clear exactly how much he didn’t want to be around Alec. Not like this afternoon. 

Not like last time, when Magnus didn’t want to meet Alec’s gaze. Now, it’s as though he can’t break away.

“Alexander,” he says at last. “Am I missing something? Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I… you’re not yourself.”

Alec’s grip tightens on the chair. He’s never been good at acting, especially not around Magnus. Alec doesn’t know how to be normal around him. Ever since Alec gave into the truth of who he is, Alec only knows how to be someone that loves Magnus, and that’s – that’s not someone that’s wanted in the world right now. 

“Well,” he grits out. “I’m sorry I don’t know how to act around a guy who’s about to break up with me.”

Immediately, Magnus’ face loses the uncertainty and confusion, and transforms into complete disbelief. “I’m sorry, _what?_ What did you just say?”

“I _said_ , ‘Sorry I don’t really know how to act around someone who’s going to–’”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” interrupts Magnus. 

Infuriated, Alec snaps, “ _You’re_ the one who asked me to repeat myself!”

“Because I was hoping I misunderstood, not that I didn’t hear it at all,” says Magnus, looking winded. “What’s _wrong_ you? Why in the world would you say something like that? I’m not going to–” He stops, unable to finish the sentence. “Why would you think that?”

“Past precedent,” says Alec flatly. A muscle twitches in Magnus’ jaw. “Though it would be nice if you could say the actual words this time. Instead of saying you love me before walking off and treating me like–” Alec cuts himself off, not wanting to think about that. He settles with, “And leaving me wondering what the hell was going on.” 

“I’m not going to say anything,” says Magnus, narrowing his eyes. Alec knows that look. It’s Magnus about to go on the defensive. “Because this isn’t even an issue. We’re not breaking up. I don’t know what world you’ve been living in–”

“I’m living in a world where you said that I didn’t want to help you in what you had to do and it wasn’t worth the five minutes it would’ve taken to explain,” interrupts Alec, anger overtaking him. What gives Magnus the right to talk like Alec’s coming out of nowhere, as though they haven’t been building toward this from the second they decided to try again? “That I made the wrong call because I don’t give a shit about doing the right thing if it meant carrying out the Clave’s interests. I’m living in a world where the last time this happened you literally couldn’t stand to look at me for months.”

“What?” says Magnus. He sounds disconcerted. “That was – that was a year ago.”

“My mistake,” says Alec, voice clipped. “I didn’t realize there was a statute of limitations on bringing that up. It happened, Magnus. We spent half a year apart.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” says Magnus, frustrated. That disbelieving look is still on his face. “Of course I know it happened. Do you think I can just forget what I went through in that time? What _you_ went through because of me? I’ve been walking on eggshells around you for _months_ because I didn’t want to give you a reason to change your mind about taking me back. I thought we were finally getting somewhere in the past few weeks and now you’re telling me–”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” interrupts Alec, Magnus’ words finally processing. “Because it was _you_ deciding to take me back after I spent months–” Alec stops, unable to finish the sentence. “And there’s absolutely nothing you could ever do that would make me leave you. But you and I both know that’s not the case the other way around.”

“That’s not fair,” says Magnus, sounding wounded. “This is completely different. And even if it wasn’t – I told you. I told you when we decided to try again that that whole thing – it was a mistake. It was the biggest mistake I’ve made this century.” 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” says Alec, voice hard, and Magnus actually flinches. “I understood why you did it. And I understand now.”

Magnus is shaking his head. “Clearly you don’t because otherwise you wouldn’t be saying this. Alexander – how is it possible that – less than twelve hours ago we were planning a trip. What happened earlier – that was a _fight_. We’ve had fights. It’s nothing that we won’t work through. And it’s – it’s fucking _insulting_ that you’d think–”

“That wasn’t a fight,” says Alec. Something like that can’t be a fight. “That was you making it pretty damn clear that you don’t think I want the same thing as you. How can that be a fight when you told me the only reason we got back together was that I managed to convince you before that I did?” 

Magnus looks like it’s the first time he’s hearing all this. “I never said that.”

“Yes, you did. I remember everything you said to me that day.” How can Alec ever forget, when he’s reminded of it each and every time he sees Magnus smiling at him, a visceral reminder of what Alec has to lose if he steps out of line? “You said you tried to stop being in love with me. And the only reason you wanted to give us – give me – a second shot was because–”

“That’s not what happened,” interrupts Magnus, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant. The only thing I stopped back then was letting my hurt convince me that you wouldn’t look out for the downworld’s wellbeing when _everything_ about you showed otherwise. I _said_ all this to you to already. I told you I was wrong to have walked off, to have looked away from the fact that you meant for the best even if the methods weren’t – you didn’t think the effects of it all the way through.”

“So it was easier to believe that I’m a piece of shit instead of an idiot,” Alec summarizes. “All right, then.”

“Stop doing that,” snaps Magnus. He stomps over to Alec’s desk but thankfully stays on his side of the table. “Stop taking what I’m saying and paraphrasing it in a way that makes it obvious you’re completely misconstruing it. I never thought any of that about you.”

“You thought I’d rather look out for my own skin at the cost of letting entire races get wiped out. Including you. And now you think that I’d rather let Raphael die or get imprisoned than fight? That sounds like a piece of shit to me, Magnus. I’m damn sure that I’m not misconstruing anything.”

“And somehow you’d know that better than me,” says Magnus, flatly. “When I’m the one who’s saying it. What, you can read my thoughts now?”

“I don’t need to listen to your thoughts. I’m hearing your words,” Alec shoots back. He wants this conversation to end, but he’s not – Alec’s not going to be the one to do it. Alec’s not the one that walks away from difficult conversations, he thinks bitterly. “And you’ve made it pretty fucking clear that if I get in the way of what you need to do then the choice is obvious.”

“You don’t actually believe that,” says Magnus, even as the confidence in his voice from just moments ago wavers. “All this time you couldn’t have actually believed that I don’t – that I’d abandon you the second something went wrong. You can't. Because if you did then you would never have agreed to try this again. You wouldn’t – no one would step into something like that.”

Alec says nothing, face feeling hot. What’s there to say when it’s obvious that he would, and he already has? 

The longer he doesn’t respond – lips pressed tightly together so he doesn’t abruptly start shouting or something equally damning to relieve the pressure building inside of him – the more infuriated Magnus starts to look. Infuriated and – and something else. 

“Why?” asks Magnus, when he can’t seem to bear the weight of Alec’s silence. His voice cracks. “Why would you do that?”

Now its Alec’s turn to look at Magnus, dumbfounded. He doesn’t even need a second to think about the answer because it’s always been about one thing for him.

“Because I love you. Of course I’d want to be with you and try to make it different.” What else was Alec supposed to do when that's the reality he lives with every day? Why else would Alec drive himself to the ground trying and trying and trying? “You think you’re the first person I disappointed? That I had to prove myself to? Where I had to learn the hard way what happens when I don’t live up to their expectations or let them down?” Alec’s voice is steadily getting louder and louder. That must be why his throat feels so raw. “I knew what–”

“Stop,” says Magnus. He sounds like he’s in pain, and so Alec does. “Stop.”

The ensuing silence is a hollow one. Magnus is staring at Alec as though he’s never noticed before now what an unsalvageable wreck Alec is. He looks pale and ashen under the warm brown of his skin. 

When those few seconds have stretched out to a few, unbearable eternities, there is finally a knock at the door.

“Hey, sorry that took me a couple minutes,” says Jace, looking and sounding apologetic. “I had to talk to Lydia about the timing of the trial and Inquisitor Herondale’s visit. It’s three days from now, just so we’re all on the same page.”

Magnus doesn’t move an inch, gaze still trained on Alec. Clearing his throat, Alec says, surprisingly steady, “That’s good news, Jace. Can you take Magnus to see Raphael?” 

“Yep,” says Jace, and the forced cheer in his voice makes it abundantly clear that he’s not oblivious to the tension in the room. “You good to go, man?”

“No,” says Magnus evenly and Jace looks taken aback. To Alec, he says, “No, because we’re not done talking about this, Alexander. We haven’t even started. Jace, you need to go.”

“No,” says Alec sharply.

“No?” repeats Magnus, incredulous. “You don’t think we need to finish this conversation?”

“I think – I think we’ve got a trial coming up in three days and we need to focus on the case,” says Alec. “And I think you agree with me. Because Raphael is your family and your people. You can’t do whatever it is that you have to do to make sure I don’t fuck this up if you don’t get all the facts from him instead of relying on what I feel is appropriate to tell you.”

“Uh,” says Jace, looking from Alec to Magnus and back again.

Magnus no longer looks ashen. He looks furious, the harbinger of a catastrophic storm, and his anger brings a flush to his cheeks. He looks fucking beautiful, better than anything Alec could’ve ever hoped to have in his life. Maybe it’s for the best that that he never did. 

“Do you disagree?” asks Alec, not backing down.

“We’re not done talking about this,” is Magnus’ curt response. “And I would appreciate if you were still here when I get back so we can resume talking about your – about what you said.”

“I have to prepare for the trial,” says Alec. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Fine,” snaps Magnus, turning on his heel and stalking out the door. “See you then. Come on, Jace.”

The door slams shut behind them, and Alec’s mind is in a frenzy. He’s not trying to get his thoughts in order so much as he’s just trying to _form_ a thought. But even when he manages to conjure just a phantom of an idea, it unravels and disperses before it can take shape, and Alec’s left right back where he started.

He can’t get the way Magnus was looking at him out of his head. _Why? Why would you do that?_ he has asked, and the devastation at hearing Alec’s response was etched across his face. Love had always been Alec’s reason for trying. What else did he have to offer when he’s lacking in every other way, from worldly success to good character? Of course that wouldn’t be something Magnus would understand – Magnus, who needs and deserves more than what Alec can give, who has so much to offer in return. 

This isn’t anything new, Alec reminds himself. It’s nothing new. And he’s not going to be able to do his job and help Raphael if he lets his failures in his personal life interfere with his ability to clear his head and execute his professional responsibilities. 

That Magnus is part of both is unavoidable, and that it’s hard for Alec to think with clarity when he’s at odds with Magnus is fact. But Alec had to learn to compartmentalize before in those long, tiring months, and he’ll learn to do it again. That’s not going to be anything new, either.

-

 

While there are multiple recorded instances of shadowhunters being appointed advocates to downworlder representatives since trials became mandatory in the eighteen hundreds, there are no instances where the defendant actually won. Disgusted at the numbers, Alec starts searching for favourable verdicts instead. Specifically cases that involves mundanes. He’s looking at such an incident from the sixties about children who were infected with werewolf bites when the door to his office slams open and Magnus storms in. 

Alec barely catches a glimpse of Jace outside before Magnus is shutting the door on his face and sealing the room shut with a flare of blue magic. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, standing up immediately.

“Did you know Raphael leaked this to the fucking Clave?” demands Magnus. “ _Raphael?_ ”

“Yes,” says Alec, relief coursing through him. The way Magnus had run in here, sealing the room shut – he’d thought that Institute was under attack or that the task force decided to take Raphael to Alicante after all.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Frowning, Alec says, “Why would I? It doesn’t change the situation he’s in.” And because Alec’s only human and an annoyed one at that, he adds, “Even if I’m less sympathetic now because it’s not bad luck so much as it’s some grade A asshole level maneuvering.”

“I hope you socked him,” scowls Magnus. “I couldn’t use magic down there and the cell bars stopped me from using my fists.”

“I thought about it,” admits Alec, warily eyeing Magnus as he walks over to the chair in front of Alec’s desk, seemingly in a trance. “But didn’t really get the chance to act on it before Lydia and the Clave delegates arrived.”

“He shouldn’t have done what he did when it’s not just him that’s on the line.”

“I said something like that to him,” admits Alec. “But what’s done is done, and he gets final say when it comes to these vampires. At least between us and the Cabinet. He’s become their guardian, and I believe him when he says he’s not going to let anything happen to those kids.”

Magnus stares at him. 

“Alexander, I’m not talking about the children,” he says slowly. “I know they’re going to be okay. The way the place is warded – it’ll never be found if Raphael’s killed, and he’d rather die than reveal its location. Even I don’t know exactly where it is.” 

“Then what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about _you._ ”

“What about me?”

“That if it gets out that you’ve been helping cover this up, then you’re going to go on trial,” says Magnus. “Even if by some miracle Raphael’s master plan of self-governance works out, you’re still a shadowhunter under the jurisdiction of the Clave. By asking you to be his advocate, it’s just going to increase the scrutiny on you and who knows what that investigation is going to pop up?”

“It doesn’t matter,” says Alec. “He still needs someone to defend him in court.”

“ _I’ll_ defend him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“He’s not going to let you,” says Alec. He frowns at Magnus. “You said you were fine with me being his advocate.”

“That’s before I found out that he got himself – and _you_ – in this situation,” snaps Magnus. He starts to pace, agitated. “I can’t – I can’t believe he’d do this.”

“Magnus, even if Raphael chose to put this in motion – it doesn’t change anything. I know the risk, and it’s the same either way. If something happens to me because of my decision to get involved with him – that’s on me. It’s not Raphael’s problem. It’s not your problem.”

Magnus stops pacing. 

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” he demands. “Of course it’s my problem if you get stripped of your runes and have nothing to defend yourself with when the demons sniff out your angel blood.”

Alec had said something like that to Izzy, before her trial. There’s nothing worse for Alec than even the thought of losing his runes – but it’s not because of the almost guaranteed death sentence it would be. Being a shadowhunter is such an ingrained part of Alec’s identity that to lose it would mean losing himself. He’d be banished from the home he’s grown up in, would lose the reassuring beat of Jace’s heart echoing beside his own, would lose the only way he knows to navigate his hands and feet and heart in this world in a way that makes any real difference.

But it’s a risk that must be taken to do the right thing, and Alec had accepted that when he’d started down this path at telling the Inquisitor to fuck off so many months ago now. The very same woman who’s going to be presiding over the trial in the coming few days.

Alec purses his lips together. “Okay.”

“No, not okay,” says Magnus, and that earlier frustration on his expression comes back as he stalks back over to Alec’s desk. “Why would you say that it wasn’t my problem? In what reality would it not be my problem to worry about the consequences of this?”

Magnus’ tone rankles at Alec. As though Alec’s broken heart is a bad joke. As though Alec’s skepticism is an insult, instead of the only rational thing Alec can do right now. 

It’s why, instead of letting it go, Alec grinds out, “In the reality from five hours ago when the only consequence I’d be facing as far as anyone was concerned was some fancy house arrest in Idris. And it’s fine,” says Alec loudly when Magnus’ expression grows into one of regret. “There was a lot going on. And you were right when you said Raphael’s got more to lose. It’s his _life_ on the line. So it’s fine. Just – don’t go on as though I’m coming out of nowhere when I say this. Don’t pretend that – that I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s not fine,” says Magnus, closing his eyes. “Alexander – I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it. That was – that was unacceptable, and being scared for Raphael isn’t an excuse.”

“I don’t care that you said it,” says Alec evenly, because there’s no point in saying the truth and making whatever’s left of their relationship even worse. Alec cares so fucking much that it’s pathetic.

“I _want_ you to care,” says Magnus, denying Alec even this. “I want you to tell me when I hurt you because sometimes – sometimes it’ll happen and if I don’t know or realize it, then how will I make it better? How will I fix something so it doesn’t grow to the point of you thinking I want to _break up with you_ if you won’t say anything?”

“Magnus, come on,” says Alec. “Don’t make this – don’t make this even more difficult than it is.”

“I’ll make this as difficult as I want!” says Magnus. “Because I’m the one who had to hear that apparently you’ve been thinking that – that you _still_ think that I–”

“That I’ll eventually screw up and push you away again?” finishes Alec.

“Yes,” says Magnus, sounding upset. “Exactly that.”

“I don’t know what else there is to say.”

With a fierce expression, Magnus says, “I’ll help you get started. How about telling me _why_ you think this, or how long this has been going on, or why you haven’t brought this up before, or–” 

“Because it wasn’t important,” says Alec, answering the least loaded of Magnus’ questions. “And it’s not important now. We’ve got real problems to–”

“Of course it’s important,” interrupts Magnus. “Of course this is a real problem. What kind of person would I have to be to not care that you were – that you’ve been unhappy in this relationship, going about as though there’s an expiry date on us?”

“I’m not unhappy,” says Alec. “I’m fine.”

“Alexander,” says Magnus, doubt colouring his voice. “How can you expect me to believe that after everything you’ve said?”

“What did I say?” asks Alec, defensive. 

“That you thought I wanted to break up with you!”

Alec reaches his limit of being able to take Magnus talking to him like that. Incredulous and accusing, as though there is no reality where that makes sense when it’s been _Alec’s_ reality for the past year. Based on consequences he’s lived through, that he’s been trying to atone for. 

If Magnus wants to do this now, then they’ll do this now.

“Of course I think that!” The words explode out of him. “What else am I supposed to think? _You’re_ the one who said that you would if it ever came down to it, that everything would go down like it did before–”

“For the love of – we’ve had this conversation already. Why aren’t you listening to me? That was a very different and very specific situation where the _world was ending_ –” 

“So the only difference is that the result of me fucking up just isn’t bad enough this time?” asks Alec, and at Magnus’ outraged glare, he says, “Don’t. That part – it doesn’t even matter. The consequences might not have crossed a line this time, but one day it will. Because I’m still figuring out where the line even is, and I’m going to keep fucking up, Magnus. That’s not going to change. I wish it would because I don’t want to be like this. I want to be the kind of–” 

Alec stops, frustrated at himself. “I don’t know. Whatever it is that you’re looking for. Someone who knows what the right decision is all the time. Someone that understands you. Someone who doesn’t make mistakes.” 

“What are you talking about?” says Magnus. He sounds upset, angry, confused, twisting at the rings adorning his fingers. “That’s not what I’m looking for. I’m not looking for anything, I _haven’t_ been looking for anyone since I found you.”

Alec is doubtful. Maybe Magnus means that he hasn’t been looking for someone else, but he’s certainly been disappointed with what he’s found within Alec. And when it came down to it, when that disappointment became too much, he had exercised his choice to leave Alec as has always been his right.

“You and I both know that I’m the fuck-up in this relationship,” says Alec. “I fucked up and you didn’t want to deal with it and honestly – you didn’t have to. You didn’t have to and so you left. Those are the facts. That’s what happened, and you can at least respect me enough to not pretend otherwise.”

“No I can’t, because you’re _wrong_ ,” says Magnus. “You need to – you need to stop talking about yourself like that. Stop thinking about yourself like that. You’re not ‘the fuck-up’ of anything. People make mistakes. You think I don’t make mistakes? That I don’t regret half the things I’ve done this past year?”

“Not between us.”

“ _What?_ ” Magnus sounds incredulous. “You think walking away from you wasn’t the biggest mistake I’ve made in this life? You think I don’t – that whenever I think about the time that we’ve lost, the way you don’t – you don’t look at me the same way anymore – you think it doesn’t take everything that I have to not collapse under the weight of that regret?”

“You shouldn’t regret anything because there’s nothing to regret,” says Alec, tired. “I’m not going to change what I’m saying. You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what anyone would, and if anything, it probably took you longer. You’ve – you’ve given me more breaks than I count.”

Magnus doesn’t respond right away, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“If you think that,” he says at last. “If you think I didn’t do anything that needs your forgiveness – then it’s because of _your_ patience and forbearance and inability to see fault in me. Your infuriating ability to shoulder the blame. Not because it didn’t happen.”

“Fine,” says Alec. “Let’s say that it did. Let’s say that you fucked up. It doesn’t matter. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t make me not want to be with you.” 

“Of course it changed something for you,” argues Magnus. “You think I don’t know the difference between having all of you and – and having these – these carefully picked out pieces?” Magnus laughs a little, and it’s an unhappy sound. “Do you have _any_ idea what it’s like having spent months looking at someone you care about try not to need you when before they didn’t even think about holding back?”

“No,” says Alec. He crosses his arms across his chest, tries to keep contained the feeling of unease invoked by Magnus’ words. “But I know what it’s like to look at them try not to want me when – when before they never held back.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Magnus says, “Alexander, that – you have to believe that never had a chance of working. Why does it matter when I love you enough and with every part of me that I could never stop?”

Because he had tried. Magnus had tried to stop whatever feelings of love and affection he had – has – for Alec because having them made things harder. Harder to do his job, to do what was required of him morally even if this weakness made him want to give Alec exceptions. 

It’s always been about choice, between the two of them. Magnus’ choice to pursue this thing between them even when Alec always said no. Alec’s choice to walk down that aisle and into the unknown. Magnus’ choice to ask him out on that date. Alec’s choice to turn back from the door. Alec’s choice to keep a secret. Magnus’ choice to leave him. Magnus’ choice to try and cut out this unwanted attachment to Alec. 

“It matters because you tried and that’s – that’s in your control. It matters to me that you wanted to. That because of something I did, you realized that being – that being in love with me was an obstacle. And I know what I did. I know. And I also know that I’m going to keep fucking up. And all I can do is say I’m sorry and mean it and learn to be better. Every time I realize I’m wrong, all I _do_ is try to be better – I’ve been holding myself and my family accountable for what we do, trying to do the same with the shadowhunters at the Institute and the delegates from the Clave – and that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for you, and if you’re going to–”

“How can you say that?” interrupts Magnus, sounding like he can’t bear to listen to what Alec’s saying any longer. His voice is rough even as his eyes are ferociously hard. “It _is_ enough for me. It’s always been enough for me. Alexander, _you’re_ enough. You’re more than what I could have ever expected from this life. I’m not – I’m not going to leave you. How many times do I have to say this for you to understand?”

“You don’t have to say it at all,” says Alec. He feels exhausted but there’s something burning inside him, keeping him going. Running on fumes, he thinks. Because he has to keep going. It’s not an option to stop. “Because it already happened once and I’m still the same, everything is the same. That part about me, of trying to be better – that’s always been there. And even if you say that’s enough, reality is that it wasn’t. You don’t have to put up with it. It’s not your job to do that.”

“Yes it is,” says Magnus. “Of course that’s my job. That’s the job of anyone who loves you. To help you through your mistakes – however big or small – because that’s nothing compared to all the good you bring into their lives.”

“Then why didn’t you?” It bursts out of Alec, an almost desperate plea. “Why didn’t you yell at me and make me understand? If you really thought I brought – more good things in this relationship than bad, then why – why–”

“Alexander,” says Magnus, like he can’t believe he even has to say it. “I told you – I shouldn’t have left. I was wrong. What don’t you understand about this? Back then – I know what happened but please – just try to understand that there was no time, and I was hurt and I was angry–”

“And what if I hurt you again?” demands Alec. “What if I make you angry again? Because I never wanted that to happen, but it did – and no matter how hard I try, I know it’s going to happen to happen again.”

He doesn’t know why he’s pushing. He isn’t like this. Alec doesn’t purposefully antagonize to try and invoke a reaction from someone he cares about. He tries to be considerate, to give them space. To come to him on their own time, if ever at all.

But this time Alec finds that he can’t wait anymore. All he’s been doing is waiting. Magnus had been right in what he had said, so many months ago now – Alec has had one foot out the door for the entire time they started again, ready to be leave the second Magnus tells him to get out. Alec knows himself, he knows it’s going to happen. He can see it playing out with crystal clarity in his head: he won’t mean to do it. He won’t realize that it’s wrong. It’ll be an accident or a misunderstanding. But if there is one guarantee Alec can provide, it’s that he’s an expert at falling short of expectations, of having poor judgment, and he will inevitably end up disappointing Magnus again and again. Alec will cross an invisible, unforgivable line and that will be the end. 

“Then I’ll take your advice and yell at you,” says Magnus and when he finally reaches for Alec’s hands, he grasps them so tight that Alec thinks his fingers could break from the force of it, desperate not to let go. “I’ll consider whether I’m overreacting. I’ll explain why I’m angry and hurt and we’ll figure it out. We’ll come to a compromise. I won’t tell you to go, I won’t walk away.”

Alec’s hands are lax in Magnus’ hold. He looks at Magnus’ eyes, so bright and wide, glowing soft with his affection for Alec even as there’s something frightened lingering at the edges of it. Perhaps it’s because Alec loves this man with the kind of ferocity he had thought could win wars and topple cities that it feels like the worst kind of betrayal when he says, “I don’t believe you.”

Because that’s what it comes down to. He knows there was once a time when what Magnus said wouldn’t be anything _but_ the truth – that Magnus would never leave him, that they’d always figure out another way. It was just part of Alec’s life, as certain as the grip of a bow in his hands. Even though he hadn’t quite understood what Magnus saw in him, what reasons he’d have to stay – he just knew that Magnus _did_. It was a belief as unshakable as the ground beneath his feet. Magnus had never said anything in such certain terms, but he never had to. Alec simply knew. 

And now he doesn’t. Alec can’t imagine how he ever did, how he ever managed to believe that there was a possibility that he wouldn’t mess this up. That he could be a part of something good, have whatever little he had to offer to someone be enough.

“I don’t believe you,” repeats Alec. “I don’t – I don’t think I’ve believed that in a long time.”

It’s almost a relief to have that weight off him – even if the result is the visceral awareness of the huge, yawning chasm of emptiness left instead. The chasm that seems to collapse in on itself when he sees the look on Magnus’ face.

“I see.” Magnus sounds distant even though he’s just a few feet away. He lets go of Alec’s hands. “I see.”

The loss of Magnus’ touch leaves Alec adrift. He feels the sudden coolness travel from his fingertips and up his arm until it sends a shudder down his spine. It gets worse when Magnus turns and takes one, two steps away and Alec can see his shoulders move up and down underneath his inky black coat, in tandem with the sounds of his deep, even breaths.

Eventually, and very quietly, Alec goes, “Magnus?”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Magnus is equally quiet. “You don’t think I’m going to stick around. All those things that I said earlier today because I was worried about Raphael and lashing out – you really think I think that about you. That’s why you’re not defending yourself or getting angry at me because in your head – it’s justified. That’s why you’re not wearing the charm I gave you.”

“What charm?” asks Alec, confused.

“The bracelet,” says Magnus tightly, and Alec looks down at his hands, the same ones Magnus had been gripping so desperately a moment ago. He sees his bare wrists and is suddenly aware of the wooden beads in the pocket of his jeans. Of course Magnus would have noticed its absence. “The bracelet that took months of my magic to make because I wanted you to be safe, Alexander. Not for one day or two days or even a year. It’s there for as long as you need it. Why would I do that if I didn’t want to be with you the whole time? Give you – give you an actual part of me to look over you when you might not be able to do it yourself? Do you think I do this for just _anyone?_ ”

It’s a loaded question. The answer is probably, ‘no,’ but Alec has never thought of who he is to Magnus in comparison to other people. Not since that first and only night it came up, when Alec had to make a decision on whether it was going to matter where Alec landed in the endless spectrum of people whose lives were touched by Magnus – and he had decided he didn’t need to be any more special than what Magnus made him feel. Certainly he never felt anything less than wanted when Magnus had swept him off to Tokyo, had returned each of Alec’s kisses hello with a smile that creased the corners of his eyes. 

Alec doesn’t think about how many people Magnus may have kissed at the terrace of the Palace Hotel, but rather that no one else has kissed _Alec_ there. 

“No,” says Alec, at last. “I don’t think you would do it for everyone.”

“Then – then how can you not believe I love you?”

“I never said that I didn’t believe that,” says Alec, and that’s the worst part about it. Magnus must care about Alec, must love him – he wouldn’t spend so much of his time with Alec if he didn’t. Wouldn’t give Alec second and third and tenth chances. Wouldn’t have carved out a piece of himself for Alec to wear around his wrist, a talisman to protect him. “But you told me that right before you left. Love wasn’t enough to keep you with me.”

“I–” starts Magnus, before he stops. “How’s this going to work if you don’t believe me when I say I made a mistake, Alexander? If you think that my regard for you is conditional? What do I have to do so we can move past this?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Alec really doesn’t. He slowly moves away from his desk and toward Magnus, but can’t quite bring himself to bridge the total distance. The distance of _I don’t know_. The difference between looking at Magnus’ back, instead of the face that he’s loved for so long now that Alec doesn’t know what life was like without the weight of it. Sometimes as light as the rays of the sun and sometimes as unbearable as a mountain crumbling atop him – but always there. Always a part of him.

“You don’t know,” repeats Magnus, and then very, very carefully, he turns to look at Alec. There’s something wretchedly uncertain in his eyes. “Do you even want to get past this, Alexander? Do you – do you even want to be with me?”

The breath gets knocked out of Alec. 

“Of course I want to be with you,” he croaks out. Alec had never once stopped wanting to be with Magnus. “Magnus – I’m in love with you. Everything I’ve done since that night we went to the Hunter’s Moon – it’s been me wanting to be with you. I never stopped.”

“Then why do you keep trying to – why do you keep shutting down everything I say?” asks Magnus, sounding frustrated, desperate, afraid. All of Alec aches to hear it. “Why don’t you believe that I want to be with you, that you’re _it_ for me? That I’m never going to leave you?”

 _Because I can’t go through this again_ , thinks Alec, heart hammering in his chest. He almost wants to close his eyes, shut off his senses from the sudden panic that grips him at the admission, if only to himself. At exposing this truth that he’s kept so closely guarded for so long, buried underneath his consciousness, convincing himself that it didn’t matter because as long as he tried hard enough, it wouldn’t be a problem.

 _This_. Only four letters, and it encompasses all the things that’s been eating away at Alec for weeks and months but he’d somehow managed to keep at bay until today. Until that brief window between having realized he’d let Magnus down – again – and having to pack it all away again to talk with Raphael. For that small span of time, Alec had no reason to keep himself from grieving and he had let himself think about what exactly he has to look forward to when Magnus decides or realizes one month, two months, three years from now that Alec is not what he wants: Magnus will leave Alec. He’ll freeze Alec out of his life. He won’t look at Alec, won’t talk to him, won’t allow Alec into his home.

But if Alec can barely admit this to himself, there’s no way he can say this to Magnus. He can’t cut himself open like this. Not when Alec doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stitch himself back together again.

Instead, Alec asks, “How did you – how did you do it? How did you get past everything that happened?”

“Because I never believed that you didn’t love me,” says Magnus with no inflection in his voice. Like he’s reciting a fact, an obvious and boring truth of his universe. “Or that you didn’t respect me or wanted anyone to suffer. I meant everything I said when we decided to try again, Alexander. It’s me that had changed. I thought I couldn’t trust you, but. At least half of that had to do with my past with the Clave, and I was too – I was too angry and disillusioned to remember you’ve always tried. Everything you’ve done since then reminded me otherwise. You’ve always tried to do the right thing, and that’s what I fell in love with. When I said I tried to stop–” Here, he momentarily falters. “When I tried not to feel anything for you but never managed it – I didn’t mean it the way you took it. I never imagined you’d hear what you did when in my mind I was saying something completely different.”

“Words only have so many meanings, Magnus.” And Alec has gone through every variation of what Magnus could have meant and none of them yielded an answer that was to Alec’s favour. “I don’t want you to make things up now – to protect me or something. I can take the truth.”

“But what you think isn’t the truth,” says Magnus. “The truth inside me – I thought I had managed to translate into words that day, however clumsily, but I didn’t. I clearly didn’t, because if I did then – then you wouldn’t have thought for a single second that I could bear to lose you. That I would _choose_ to leave you, when ultimately time won’t give me an option.”

“Then what did you mean?” Alec doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer, but some part of him – some awful part of him that has kept alive his hope when it’s been extinguished everywhere else – wants Magnus to say it, wants this to be the magical time that Alec can believe he’s enough for Magnus to fulfill all these promises when he hadn’t been enough the last time they tried. “If you’re saying that I don’t understand then – then tell me now. What were you trying to say?”

He steps closer to Magnus and they’re near enough now that Alec would only have to reach out to touch him. Magnus must think something similar because his arm is already moving out before Alec sees comprehension dawn in his gaze and he jerks it back. Unhappily, Alec recalls how instinctively he had moved away from Magnus earlier, when he had first arrived.

Just one more thing for Alec to regret. 

Breathing his way past that for the moment, Alec repeats, “What were you trying to tell me?”

Magnus’ Adam’s apple moves as he swallows. 

“I couldn’t stop loving you,” says Magnus, not looking away from Alec, “because you’re good for me. You’re good _to_ me. You bring me joy. You give me hope. You treat me with kindness. When I look at you, I think anything is possible. I think the world is a better place just for having you in it. Every day you’re _making_ the world a better place with the ferocity of your conviction and the strength of your spirit, trying to fix something that’s been broken long before your time.” 

Magnus’ voice is wavering, but whatever it is that he sees on Alec’s face must fuel him on because he forcefully continues, “I couldn’t stop loving you, Alexander, because there’s not a thing about you that wasn’t made to be loved and the best parts of me knew that even when the rest of me was too blinded. I couldn’t accept that you made a mistake, that someone who loved me could hurt me like that without even trying and – and I chose to hurt you by letting myself forget that you’re something more real, and more precious than whatever I had been expecting. And knowing what it’s like to be loved by you, as though – as though there’s not a monster hiding inside of me–”

“There’s not.” Alec finally seems to have gained the ability to speak, only to lose it again after those two words. Unable to think of anything that would be adequate enough, he repeats Magnus’ own words back to him, “There’s nothing about you that wasn’t made to be loved, that I won’t spend my whole life loving. The human part, the demon part – all of it. I’d have never learned to trust my gut without you, to have the confidence to fight back against everything I’ve been taught my entire life. I’m a better person just from having met you, Magnus. A braver person, a kinder person.” For a while, Alec had even been a happier person. 

Magnus shuts his eyes, and the wetness that had been gathering there as Alec spoke finally spills over.

“Then why isn’t that enough?” he whispers. “If I love you and you love me, then why can’t that be enough?”

“It’s enough for me,” says Alec, and he carefully, finally, reaches toward Magnus, takes a single hand in between both his own. His breath catches in his chest when Magnus snaps his eyes open at the tentative touch. 

“It’s enough for me,” repeats Alec. “It’s always been enough for me to try. But is it – is it enough for you? And you have to give it to me straight,” he adds, when Magnus goes to respond. “You have to be sure, Magnus. Because it wasn’t enough for you before and – and I’m going to keep trying to be better, to be the best person I can be but if my best isn’t good enough – I don’t know what else I can do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” whispers Magnus. “Alexander, I love you. What do you think I mean when I say that?”

“I–” Alec stops. “I don’t know,” he admits, quiet. 

Magnus’ face is getting pale again. Alec tries not to let that stop him. “I don’t know what to think. But after everything that happened today, I don’t want to wonder anymore. So whatever you tell me right now, whatever you say you mean – I’m going to believe you, Magnus. You just – you have to be sure. Whichever way this goes.”

Alec knows what it’s like to take a beating and have to get back up, continue fighting, continue living and trying to make the most of the time and resources and blessings he’s been given. He had been finished living a life of doubt and silent torment since he came out at the wedding. What Alec has been doing all this time – resigning himself to an ultimately hopeless future, a life where any and all happiness was belied by an ocean’s depth of grief, that he would accept because it would perhaps bring happiness or relief to someone else for a short amount of time until he manages to mess it up again – this isn’t the person he is anymore.

Alec had kissed Magnus for himself. And whatever happens next – he has to do it for himself. After this, Alec’s in or Alec’s out. And whichever way this goes, Alec knows he can’t – he won’t – put himself through finding out differently again. He can’t lose himself like this again. Not even for Magnus. _Especially_ not for Magnus, who had been key in Alec finding himself in the first place.

“What I mean,” says Magnus hoarsely, “when I say I love you, is that a world at my feet wouldn’t mean anything if that world didn’t have you in it. But if the universe ceased and only you were all that was left of creation, then that would be enough for me. That life without you is the most wretched punishment I’ve put myself through and I never want to go through that again. That I never want to see you unhappy or be the cause of it. It means that I’m here to stay, to put into us every ounce of effort I have in me. That you won’t regret the second chance you’ve given me, even if you don’t see it that way. That for as long as you will have me – I’m going to try to do right by you, be someone you can count on. Someone who’s not going to let you down again.”

Letting go of Alec’s hands so that he can cradle Alec’s face instead, Magnus says, very softly, “I want to be with you for as long as you want me, Alexander. Do you – do you believe me?” 

“Yes,” rasps out Alec, heart thundering in his chest. It seems impossible – wishful, even – but Alec made a promise. And by the angel, he’s going to do his damn best to keep it. “I believe you.”

He closes the distance between the two of them and pulls Magnus in for a fierce, desperate kiss. The ground falls out from underneath Alec, as it always must when he dives into the unknown armed with nothing but faith to make things right.

Even if the doubts and uncertainties come back tomorrow, at this moment there is nothing but conviction inside of Alec. He had meant it when he told himself that if Magnus wanted him – really wanted him, without any conditions except that Alec would continue to try his best and have that be enough – then he would let himself believe it.

Magnus’s arms drop to Alec’s waist before slowly sliding up his back as he pulls Alec close, resting his head against Alec’s shoulder. Alec returns the embrace and the moment he does, all of Magnus melts into him. The hardened tips of Magnus’ hair brushes feather light against Alec’s cheek and the tremor that runs through Alec would’ve been enough to rattle his bones if Magnus hadn’t been holding him securely in place. His body is still thrumming with an unnatural tension, an astute sense of alertness – but the next breath he takes is somehow easier than the one before. And the one after that is easier still. 

_It’s enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me. You’re more than anything I could have expected from this life._

Alec lets himself believe it.

Eventually, Magnus says, “You have to be sure about this, Alexander. I can’t – I can’t do this if you keep quiet about your misgivings and not even give me a chance to ease them. Or you let yourself suffer thinking it’s to my benefit. If you can’t trust me with your heart–”

“I trust you,” interrupts Alec. “I trust you with all of it.” 

Magnus looks doubtful, and Alec realizes the reason for it. Trust isn’t like flipping a switch. It doesn’t come easily, not for Alec – except with Magnus, who Alec had trusted immediately without ever figuring out why. Something that’s deeper than his consciousness just knew.

 _Don’t just say it. You have to show him._ Steeling himself, Alec pulls away just enough to look at Magnus’ face and ask, “Will you stay here with me?”

Frowning, Magnus asks, “What do you mean?”

“Raphael,” says Alec, because no matter how much it feels like it, sometimes, the world doesn’t end at the two of them. “I have to be nearby while this trial goes on. To get to the Silent City if something happens and access the archives for case files and – and if it’s – if on top of the two of us working together we could still–”

Alec just told him that he trusted him. He can’t make that a lie already.

It’s another kind of effort, to go against all the months he’s spent not trying to ask Magnus for things, trying not to _need_ him. Alec cuts through the clutter in his mind and says, “I love you, and after a day like today – it would mean a lot to me if we could go to sleep together. Even though this place is about to become a viper’s nest – I’m still asking. Because it’s something I want from you.”

Magnus looks overwhelmed once more. 

“Of course,” he says, and the words sound like it’s scraping out of his throat. “Of course I’ll stay with you.”

There’s a certainty that settles inside of Alec as he kisses Magnus once more, this time in simple gratitude. A missing gear in the machinery inside of him finally slotting back into place. Alec is going to do this. He and Magnus are going to win this case, keep fighting the good fight against demons, keep fighting the necessary fight against the Clave. 

And Alec is going to trust that Magnus is going to be there beside him for all of it. That they both want this enough to make it something that’ll last. That love for Magnus means the same as it does for Alec – that it’s reason enough to keep trying. 

-  
-

 

**NOVEMBER**

Alec doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting during their first Cabinet meeting after the trial, but this frosty indifference toward Raphael from Magnus hadn't been it. Magnus doesn’t acknowledge Raphael at all and keeps his face impressively blank when Raphael outlines the different areas the verdict with the – still secret – colony of vampire children will mean for the downworld. After the meeting, Magnus only kisses Alec goodbye with a quick, “I’ll see you for dinner, darling,” before breezing out.

“Uh,” says Luke, looking at the bright sunlight pouring outside. “You need a ride back or something, man?”

Raphael’s face is unsmiling as he looks at the place Magnus has just portaled out of.

“I’ll manage, thank you. Don’t let me keep you, Luke.”

Luke and Alec share a look before Luke gracefully takes his leave.

“You can hang around here until the sun goes down,” says Alec awkwardly. “Or I’m sure we can figure out how to get the wards to open up to another warlock.”

“Not a problem,” says Raphael, pulling out his phone and sending off a message. “I’ve got someone on standby. It’ll just take her a couple minutes to arrive at the Institute door.”

Setting his phone away, he continues, “I’m used to Magnus being going to great lengths to prove a point. He’ll get over it.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten over it already.”

“Really?” says Raphael, sounding skeptical. “You’re surprised.”

“You’re his family,” says Alec reasonably.

For a moment, Raphael silently looks at Alec. The expression on his face is considering. 

“So are you, Lightwood. You weren’t there when he came to see me in the Silent City that first night and found out I’d sent that tip to the Clave.” Raphael shakes his head a little, as though brushing off an unsettling memory. “Even though things are all right between the two of us, it’ll take Magnus some time to be able to forgive me for putting you at risk like that.”

The frank way Raphael says this strikes Alec silent. The nine days that it took from the time Lydia filed the official charges to reaching the verdict of Raphael’s innocence had been one of the most distressing weeks in Alec’s recent history. He’d still been found guilty of harboring secrets harmful for the sanctity of the state, but the sentencing of that had been incredibly lenient – especially after he was willing to bargain with other information involving the various crimes Camille had gotten up to over the years. 

All Raphael had to do was reveal the local Institute that was the closest to the children’s sanctuary under a truth spell and be a mandatory consultant in all cases of vampire related crime being investigated by shadowhunters in that jurisdiction. 

It had been what Raphael was aiming for. He had disclosed the colony’s physical proximity to the New York Institute with no hassle. Raphael’s lethal efficiency and capability to do what had to be done was a quality Alec could respect. Despite his anger at the beginning of this whole thing, Alec could see that it hadn’t been – personal, so to speak. Raphael did what he felt he had to. In a way Alec had even understood it, once he accepted that the children wouldn’t be in danger from this gamble.

But it had been personal to Magnus.

Unsure of what to say, Alec settles with, “You want me to talk to him?”

“How... gallant of you to offer,” says Raphael. “No need. I can handle Magnus. And – should something like this happen again, I think we all learned a lesson here about keeping the team on the same page from the start.”

Despite Raphael explicitly telling Alec there isn’t a need for Alec to get involved in this, something whittles away at him for the remainder of the day, all the way to the restaurant in Chicago that Magnus takes him to for dinner. Perhaps it’s because of Alec’s inextricable involvement in the matter.

As is usually the case when he gets lost in his head, Alec doesn’t realize it until he’s startled back into awareness because Magnus gently kicks his shin under the table. 

“I didn’t realize that my misadventure this morning in trying to bargain information out of an imp I’d unknowingly offended last century was _so_ boring that I would completely lose your attention,” he says wryly.

“Huh? No – not at all,” assures Alec, guilty about the pull of his thoughts. Sheepishly, he says, “Would you believe if I said I got distracted by how good you look?”

“No,” says Magnus, but he’s smiling. “Because I know how _you_ look when that’s what you’re thinking about.” Alec doesn’t even have a chance to refute this blatant attack at his transparency when Magnus continues, more seriously, “What’s on your mind?”

It’s at the tip of Alec’s tongue to say, _Nothing,_ but the obvious curiosity and concern on Magnus’ expression stops him. Alec doesn’t want to fall into old patterns again. And even as he feels his muscles lock up for no real reason, all he has to do is remind himself of the look on Magnus’ face when he had said, _you tried not to need me,_ and it’s enough to push himself through.

“Before I get into that,” starts Alec. “You do look amazing. Sorry I hadn’t said it earlier.”

Magnus in any form is the best thing Alec’s ever seen, but under the warm, dim lights of the restaurant he looks particularly stunning. “He’s got you under a spell, huh, big brother?” Izzy used to tease him, and it’s – it’s just how it is. 

Looking bewildered and pleased all at once, Magnus says, “My fragile ego can handle it this one time, Alexander. What has your thoughts all twisted around?”

“It’s something Raphael said to me earlier today.”

“Oh, good grief,” says Magnus, rolling his eyes. “What problems is he causing you now?”

“Nothing,” says Alec. “That’s just it. He mentioned – well, the specific words don’t matter. But I told you before that you shouldn’t feel obligated to do anything because you think that’s what I want from you. So if your fight – or whatever – is because of me–”

“Of course it’s because of you,” says Magnus. “I can’t have him thinking he can go around playing you like a pawn–”

“Okay,” says Alec. “Let’s not – I’m not that easily manipulated. I told you from the start of this – I made the decision to advocate for him knowing everything. And I can’t believe I’m the one between the two of us that has to defend Raphael Santiago, but – I’m pretty sure he wasn’t doing this just to fuck with me.”

“I don’t care,” says Magnus stubbornly. “I’ve gone decades without talking to people before for doing far less than putting the man I love–”

Horrified, Alec interrupts by saying, “ _Decades?_ ”

Magnus looks abashed. “Admittedly, I can be petty in my grudges. Time moves differently for immortals.”

“Clearly,” says Alec dryly. “Well, I just wanted to put it out there, I guess. I don’t like seeing you upset, and it’s obvious that you are when you’re around him.”

When Magnus speaks next, his voice is quiet. 

“Only because you mean the world to me, Alexander,” he says. “In a way I’m glad for what he did because it – I think it helped us sort a lot of things out. But one of those things is that I’m not going to have you thinking that I’m okay with other people treating you like you don’t matter, like what you’re doing everyday isn’t something exceptional and something to be taken for granted.”

“Magnus,” says Alec, unsure of what else to say. “You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” says Magnus, firmly.

Magnus wants to. Wants to be angry at someone in Alec’s behalf. And it’s not anything new about Magnus, either – Alec still doesn’t know exactly what had happened on Magnus’ end that had resulted in those awful months between him and Izzy, but Alec understands that it had been him being hostile on Raphael’s behalf despite Raphael and Izzy having been at a good place with one another. It’s what Magnus does when he loves someone and perceives some injustice. He takes it upon himself to bring balance to the universe.

But is it something so uncommon? Alec thinks to Izzy’s coldness toward Magnus at the beginning of his and Alec’s rekindled relationship. He thinks about his own inability to forgive Raphael in his role with Izzy’s addiction to _yin feng_ , of being angry at his mother on Jace’s behalf when Jace was too heartbroken to feel that anger himself. It’s what you do when you care about someone and want the world to see them the way you do and not knowing what else to do when faced with the reality otherwise.

There’s nothing else to say when that’s the case except– “Okay, then. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” admits Alec, and he inexplicably starts to laugh. “For taking it on yourself to be mad, I guess. Even though you don’t have to.”

“Oh,” says Magnus, looking like he doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. “Then... you’re welcome.”

There’s only so long Alec can contain the terrible tenderness coalescing in his chest at the sight of Magnus’ lost expression before he gives in to it. 

“You can tell me more about your disaster with the imp, if you want,” says Alec instead, giving both of them an out. “I’m paying attention now.”

Alec still marvels at how easy it is to switch gears like this, weaving in and out of moments that are light and sweet with those that are almost frightening in their intimacy. The cautious joy on Magnus’ face gives way to something brighter. More certain. 

“ _Misadventure_ with the imp, Alexander, not disaster,” he corrects. “There’s a difference.”

“My mistake.”

“Hmm,” says Magnus, clearly not believing him. “I see how it is. But I suppose I have only myself to blame for encouraging that smart mouth of yours.”

“You’ve got more to blame yourself than that,” says Alec, unable to resist prolonging their easy banter. He demonstrates one of the infinite things about Alec Magnus is to be blamed for by taking Magnus’ hand from where it’s resting on the table and kissing the back of it. 

It doesn’t even feel like being brave anymore. There’s no ache to it, nothing wishful. It just – it just feels like being in love, the way Alec has always known it could be: something sweet and whole. 

-  
-

 

**DECEMBER**

It’s the third time today that Alec gets stuck in one of the doorways of Magnus’ loft, and it’s only eight in the morning. 

“MAGNUS!” he hollers, glaring up at the sprig of enchanted mistletoe that’s the cause of Alec’s dilemma. “Get over here.”

Magnus sweeps in to Alec’s line of sight. He’s wearing a mundane holiday sweater that’s so hideous that not even Magnus’ handsomeness can be its saving grace. Alec wants to set the thing on fire. The least Magnus can do for putting Alec through this is walk around without a shirt on, he thinks sullenly.

Magnus is positively beaming as he looks directly at Alec’s scowl. “Yes, my love?”

“Magnus,” says Alec warningly. 

“Did you need something?” Magnus’ tone is all innocence. “You know I’m here to fulfill your every wish.”

“Magnus, come on. Get me out of here.”

“Now how will I do that?” 

Something about Magnus has Alec trying to tamp down a smile, even with his annoyance at being magically bound in place growing by the second. Despite Alec being the victim of this magical mischief, Alec can’t deny that this kind of thing is – it’s quintessential Magnus. 

Getting Alec stuck in doorways for an undeterminable amount of time until a kiss from Magnus sets him free. 

“Stop pretending to be coy and just kiss me.”

“I don’t know, Alexander. You don’t sound too enthusiastic about the idea. I’m not sure what you’ve heard around town, but I can assure you that I don’t go around kissing people who don’t want to be–”

“Magnus, if you don’t get me out of here within the next five seconds, I swear I’m gonna–”

Alec is cut off by Magnus laughing before he carefully presses his lips against Alec’s. 

The magic instantly dissipates from Alec’s limbs as does the annoyance that’s been plaguing him. It leaves him free to pull Magnus closer, to deepen the kiss and have Magnus’ laugh turn into a sigh. He chases the sound with the slide of his tongue, follows it to the scorching heat of Magnus’ mouth and shows Magnus just how _enthusiastic_ Alec is about kissing him. 

It’s no wonder Magnus doesn’t take him seriously every time Alec tells him to take down the damn mistletoe, he thinks, closing his eyes. Magnus nudges him backward until Alec’s back hits the doorpost, and it’s the greatest irony that even with him being perfectly free to move, Alec stays right where the charm had kept him in place.

“I know you keep telling me to get rid of those,” says Magnus as he pulls away, eyes still trained onto Alec’s mouth. “But really, Alexander, you’re not giving me any incentive.” Kissing him again, Magnus says, “I like how my day goes when I have them up, I think. There’s something thrilling about hearing you angrily yelling for my help.”

“Isn’t it more thrilling to hear me yelling your name in a positive way?”

“I’m a complicated person, Alexander.”

“You’re something, all right,” says Alec, shaking his head.

Magnus wraps a hand around Alec’s wrist, right above the permanent home of Alec’s bracelet, and starts to pull him toward the drawing room. “Do you like my sweater?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“It’s festive!” says Magnus cheerfully. “Granted, western civilization has a lot to be improved on, but the holidays are my favourite thing about being in this part of the world.”

Alec doesn’t care much for this kind of thing, but he cares a lot about seeing Magnus happy and there’s no doubt that Magnus loves all of the hustle and hassle associated with this time of year: Magnus’ own birthday (allegedly), Christmas, and New Year’s all packed together in a whirlwind three weeks. The loft has turned almost unrecognizable with the sheer number of gold and silver decorations. 

“Well, then,” says Alec, loyally. “I... like that you like it.”

“Would you wear one of them if I got it for you as a gift?” teases Magnus.

Alec thinks about this, because the answer is probably more complicated than what Magnus is expecting. Magnus might be able to completely disregard people looking at him – he might even enjoy it – but Alec has never felt comfortable enough in his own skin to say the same. There’s a reason he prefers to be invisible in the eyes of mundanes whenever he ventures outside. The list of people who Alec is amenable with looking at him with any kind of scrutiny is laughably small. 

The only flip side to that is that _for_ the select few people he’s comfortable around, he’s completely fine with them looking at him in almost any state. Including being adorned in a monstrous red sweater with a villainous looking snowman knitted on the front.

He says, “I’d wear it in here. But not outside or at the Institute.” Then, to be even more specific in case Magnus finds a loophole, Alec continues, “Or really anywhere where there are people around that’s not you. So don’t try and trick me.”

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” murmurs Magnus, looking incredibly touched. 

_Of course,_ Alec starts to say, but it’s at that moment they pass through the door to the drawing room and Alec gets stuck again. He sighs instead. “The fact that you won’t even take down your magical plants for me is making me reconsider.”

“Oops,” says Magnus, and the apology in his tone is belied by how delighted he looks as he kisses Alec’s cheek to undo the effects of the spell. Alec realizes that he’s probably going to let this go. “Well, you can have all the decorative veto power you want when we get a place together.”

That’s – a very particular way to put it, thinks Alec. “You mean when I move in?”

“No, I mean – maybe I should talk to you about this before I go and put in an impulsive offer in Cobble Hill. Do you have to be back at the Institute right away?” 

“No, I was just going to get some stuff sorted out before things got busy. I don’t have be back until my meeting at nine-thirty.”

“Plenty of time,” says Magnus, nudging Alec’s shoulders so that Alec sits down on the sofa. “We can even have breakfast! I’ll open a portal for you at nine-fifteen.” 

“Or we can just finish by nine,” suggests Alec, “and I’ll run back so you don’t have to start the day by bending time and space.”

“That seems like a conversation we should have an hour from now.”

“I mean, if you want to we can, but my answer’s not going to change,” says Alec. Magnus rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, what were you talking about? You want to move to a new place?”

Magnus’ expression grows more serious. “Admittedly, first thing on a Tuesday morning might not be the best time to bring this up, but. I don’t want to move to a new house just because, Alexander. But rather... if and when the time comes when you think you want to live together, I don’t want it to be here.”

“What?” asks Alec, frowning. “Why not?

“Because I don’t think you’ll ever see this place as yours,” says Magnus, and there’s something wistful in his voice. “I think – I think if you ever want to live here, you’ll always think I have more right to it. That I have the final say on what happens. On who stays and who goes. And if that’s the case, then it’s not really your own home then, is it?”

Alec doesn’t know what to say. Because there’s an immediate answer that pops into his mind, but it’s not one he wants to voice nor one he even wants to be the truth. It has been a long time since Alec has let himself think as far ahead as building a _home_ with Magnus, never mind the particularities of it. But Magnus has clearly thought a lot about it, and what he says drills right down to the core of Alec. 

The truth of it, though – the truth that hurts even to admit to himself – is that having once thought of Magnus’ loft as home and still not having regained that same feeling of _rightness_ in the physical space of it – he can’t guarantee if that’ll ever happen. If he’ll ever feel that sense of belonging here, even as day by day he feels surer of his place beside Magnus himself. 

The loss that grips him at the thought is almost crushing. Alec looks around at the walls surrounding him, the walls between which he fell in love with Magnus. That first night – Alec had fallen asleep on this very couch he’s sitting on, the one he’d scrubbed clean of Luke’s blood. Alec’s gaze moves from the balcony that’s slowly filling up with the first of New York’s snowfall, to the hallway leading to Magnus’ bedroom, to the breakfast table in the kitchen.

It feels like a piece of Alec has left the confines of his body to tie itself to the foundations of this place. Setting down roots, without even realizing it. In his heart, if not reality – because reality is that Alec still keeps to the three drawers Magnus has always kept for him, doesn’t have a reason to come back here if Magnus isn’t there too. At the end of a particularly tiring day, Alec misses Magnus without fail, but doesn’t always think about coming back here – mostly because Magnus is sometimes waiting for him in his room at the Institute, keeping a promise Alec sometimes forgets about.

A home has to be a place that stands on its own, that has its own sense of belonging. It has to be enough for the nights when there isn’t anyone to come back to. Because of that reason, the cold walls of the Institute – which, despite all logic, still has some comfort and familiarity and stability for Alec – will never be Magnus’ home. And he shouldn’t have to be there just because he wants to be where Alec returns to on the nights he isn’t sure he should be returning here.

“Alexander?” asks Magnus, gently prodding Alec out of his thoughts. 

“Sorry,” says Alec, coming back into awareness and being greeted by the sight of Magnus’ face. “I think... I think that makes sense.”

“It does?”

“You’ve got a good read on me,” admits Alec. “I didn’t think about it until now, but you’re right – I think of this place as yours. I definitely think I’m welcome here, but – I don’t think it’s mine. And a home has to feel like it’s mine.” It feels strange to say it out loud. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that before.”

Magnus looks incredibly sad at the admission, and Alec hurriedly explains, “I mean that I’ve always had home be associated with – people, I guess. Not a place. It’s why the Institute still feels like home instead of a place where I work. Jace is there, Izzy’s there. Even my mom’s there now.”

“They’re your family,” sums up Magnus. “It makes sense.”

Throat feeling dry, Alec says, “You know – you know I want you be my family, don’t you? And wherever I end up calling home – for it to ever really feel like it, you’d have to be there to come back to.” 

It’s probably too soon to say this, but Alec doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to wait ever again, or keep the truth inside of him under wraps – not when it has never led to anything good. What _has_ resulted in happiness for them both is Alec trusting that each every leap of faith that he takes in this relationship will have Magnus waiting to greet him on the other side. 

And even now, it turns out to be the right thing to do. Blinking rapidly, Magnus says, “I’ll be there,” and leans in to kiss Alec again. “Wherever you want.” 

Almost deliriously, Alec thinks about how there isn’t even a magical mistletoe involved. 

-  
-

 

**EPILOGUE – APRIL, PART IV**

Their last morning in Spain, Alec doesn’t let Magnus leave the sun drenched bed of their villa. The desire that’s a steady thrum in Alec’s veins is ravenous at the sight of him: the drowsy way he blinks awake, the way his muscles unwind underneath his darkened skin as he stretches his limbs. It had been instinct for Alec to roll over and kiss him. He even manages to keep his kisses contained to just Magnus’ lips for a long while before moving on to the rest of him. 

The love they make is slow, languorous, dizzying as the summer heat. Magnus sighs and moans and grips Alec with such fervent desperation that Alec will feel the press of it for the rest of the day. Afterward, Magnus pushes the damp hair out of Alec’s eyes and says, “How is it that you’re the one who’s trying to extend our already extended vacation?”

“Optimizing,” corrects Alec. “We’ve still got a couple hours left before we have to clear out of the villa.”

“Oh, how embarrassing for me to have misunderstood,” laughs Magnus.

“You know what, though,” says Alec, absently running a finger down a prominent vein of one of Magnus’ ridiculous arms. There might be a world outside the two of them, outside this room – but Alec doesn’t want to go join it quite yet. Doesn’t want to leave this sphere of uncomplicated happiness. “If you have a couple extra days–”

“What’s this?” asks Magnus, smiling. “Are you about to suggest extending our time here instead of settling for _optimizing,_ after all?”

“Well, the logistics are pretty flexible,” says Alec. “But it’s April and I remembered a couple days ago that you mentioned that this was the best time of the year to go to Japan. To see the cherry blossoms.”

“You want to go to Japan?” repeats Magnus. “To see... the cherry blossoms?”

“I know it’s been a while since you mentioned it,” says Alec, quiet. A while is an understatement – it’s been more than a year. It had been during their weekend in Tokyo, so long ago now. Magnus had said they’d come back in the spring and he’d show Alec around the palaces of Kyoto, the hot springs in Kyushu. An offhand promise that Alec hadn’t realized he’s ready to collect. That he’s been ready for a long time now. “But if you still want to go.”

Magnus stares at him for a moment. Finally, he says, “I do. I do want to go with you. It’s just that – the season for that is coming to an end.” He looks genuinely distraught. “I’m ready to whisk you away right now if you want but to see everything in full bloom–”

“Earlier would’ve been better?” guesses Alec, wry.

“Yes,” admits Magnus. “I’m sorry.”

Alec shakes his head. “Why’re you sorry?” he asks. “There’s always next year. I should’ve known there’d be some kind of issue with me trying to be spontaneous.” Squeezing Magnus’ hand, he adds, “We’ll just plan better next time.”

Looking at their interlocked fingers, Magnus starts to smile again. “You think you can swing another two weeks next April?”

“I think so,” says Alec. “I mean, barring some kind of world-ending emergency, I’m really the only person who can stop me.”

And Alec can’t imagine ever stopping himself from going back anywhere with Magnus.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and joining me on this journey! please feel free to leave a kudo if you enjoyed :D


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